


Touching Valhalla

by 1V1



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Armor Kink, Asshole Loki, Bartering, Begging, Breast Fucking, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Come Swallowing, Cruelty, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hand Jobs, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Master/Slave, Molestation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Prisoner of War, Rape Fantasy, Rape Free, Reader Roasts Internally, Royalty kink, Size Kink, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, Unwitting Captive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-03-21 15:37:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 75,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13744017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1V1/pseuds/1V1
Summary: Accidentally picking up an enchanted necklace belonging to an Asgardian criminal, you're transported to Asgard, where Loki is king, and he won't let you leave until he finds the criminal in question. Worse, he won't teach you the basic skills needed to survive in Asgard unless you give him something in return.He offers a devil's deal- For each thing he teaches you, you must allow him the freedom to touch a part of your body as he pleases. You hands, your ears, your shoulders- every part of you is currency for his knowledge, and he intended to collect until all that is left is the very freedom you claim to have.Updated Monthly (At the very least)





	1. Welcome to Asgard

**Author's Note:**

> I write short introductions because I am bad at them

You had, in fact, no idea where on earth you were.  
Actually, you had an idea but it was not one you wanted to be entertaining.  
The idea was that you were no longer on earth because there were plants that you knew did not exist on earth, not to mention you were pretty sure you saw something that was vaguely antlered and larger than a moose and well.

You hoped the idea of ‘not on earth at all’ was just that. An idea made from being absolutely terrified. Today had started out as a good day for you too. You’d woken up early on your day off, been meaning to go to the new café downtown, buy some of the stupidly expensive stupidly good macaroons to go with your French vanilla late made with heavy cream. The sun had been warm, the breeze cool, and not a single crazy guy on the street corner preaching about the end times. It had been looking to be a good day.

But then you went and had to become curious. 

It was tiny, no bigger than a quarter- a gold necklace on a thin chain, dangling from a bush. You saw it from the corner of your eye and like any stupidly evolved monkey your dumb primate brain went ‘oh shiny look and touch!’ So you did.  
And felt yourself get sent through the space equivalent of the Willy Wonka boat ride from the gene wilder film only to wake up in the middle of fuckleberry forest, wondering if you were having some sort of coma induced dream. A few rounds of pinching yourself, slapping your face, and kicking one large tree stump later you were certain this wasn’t a dream, you were very much alive and also having no idea where you were.

The smart thing to do would be climb a tree, get a layout of the land, and try to find civilization. Which was what you started to do when civilization found you.  
Or rather, one guy in a fancy renaissance fair outfit flanked by some offbrand golden knightly dudes found you. 

“While I don’t mind pinning you to the tree you’re currently attempting to scale, I’d like to rub it in your face that we did in fact, manage to catch you Amora.” The man who seemed to be in charge of the group of golden boys was the only differently dressed member of the party, his armor black and green with gold embellishments. Black hair too, whereas the other men in gold armor were golden blonds. You were sensing a trend.  
Atop a white horse, the dark knight seemed perfectly smug looking at you hanging off a low branch like a pathetic kitten. He also had his men holding glowing spears at you and frankly, it all seemed a bit much over a case of mistaken identity.  
“Uh.” He lifted an eyebrow as to gaped, not sure who to explain what was going on. Had you been kidnapped for some LARP match? Maybe. Nerds will do anything.  
“I don’t know who your Amora is, but, I’m not her.” The man snorted derisively, and two of his golden goons grabbed you before you even had time to shout. As you yelled various expletives at them and flailed as best you could in their steel grip, the leader saw what you had dropped in your screaming thrashing rage.

The necklace.  
“Oh?’ He hummed, picking it up and turning it over in his fingers.  
“How very interesting.” Was the necklace to blame? What was going on? You wanted to be let go but thug one and thug two weren’t budging.  
“It seems-“ And just like that he walked up to you, a single finger pressing to your forehead with more force you thought possible, “-I was mistaken.” He looked at the two men holding you up and snapped.  
“Didn’t you hear me? I said there has been a mistake, this is most certainly not Amora.” They let you go to fall into an unflattering heap on the forest floor, yelping when you rear collided with hard earth. 

Raven hair crouched down to you eye level, holding out the necklace to you.  
“By where did you come across this trinket?” So, you explained, his goons still holding a little to tight to glowing spears for your liking. Your tiny tale of discovery over, the man sighed.  
“Unfortunately for you girl, that necklace was enchanted to bring whomever touched it to Asgard. A woman we’ve been hunting down for her crimes was it’s owner, and, it seems she misplaced her little tool home.”  
“Wait As- the hell are you saying?” You stand, panic setting in. No, you wanted the whole not on earth thing to be wrong. Leather pants was making shit up, the necklace wasn’t magic, that’s fake. Just like the rumor about Tony Stark having a kid. Could be real but was totally fake. “I’m- I’m still on earth right?” 

Hot Topic wet dream laughed then, loud and his men shuffled, looking around at each other awkwardly.  
“No dear girl, you’re on Asgard, an entirely different realm, an entirely different world.” You felt sick.  
“Perhaps you’ve heard of me though?” Your vision was getting blurry, it was hard to breathe. Another world? Not possible. Impossible. It couldn’t be happening it wasn’t real.  
“I am Loki of Asgard.” Your eyes widened as your heart rate skyrocketed. The man, Loki, grinned like he’d just won the lottery and hadn’t told anyone yet. “The Allfather, and oh yes-“ He was Thor’s brother. The crazy dude who’d made the Hitleresque speech in Germany then went to invade New York City with a bunch of bug dudes.  
“-King.” He was- wasn’t Thor the- your body was seizing up, you couldn’t breathe. 

The Golden armored men looked confused, concerned even as Loki smiled.  
“Poor thing, I think I might have over whelmed her a tiny bit.”

You didn’t know what happened next, because as soon as he reached out to touch you, your eyes rolled back and you passed out right in front of the very man who’d once tried to conquer your home.


	2. The First Bargain: Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki explains some things, and find out that sometimes, the best deals are also the worst ones.

Walking up was the worst thing ever you decided.  
Having passed out in a weird magical forest, Loki had taken it upon himself to bring you back to the Capitol of Asgard.  
Which was also called Asgard which was a load of stupid to you but hey, thousands of years old people calling themselves Gods made the rules, not you. 

But according to the woman named Lys, the king had taken you back in a hurry. Something in that forest called a Bildgesnipe lived there. Whatever the fuck that was, it sounded bad from the way Lys shuddered about it. But anyway, King Loki the wannabe God of Earth, had brought you back and given you a room. Complete with a whole fucking wardrobe, a walk in tub, and a ‘handmaiden’. Which was Lys. Who was driving you nuts because no matter what question you asked, she evaded and dodged. Loki would answer your questions, she didn’t know, her job was just to see to your needs and oh, help you dress you DID like dresses after all right.

Maybe had the dresses not all been varying shades of Green with enough gold on them to fund a small army you’d like them but no- it was surreal. 

Loki was a war criminal, a wanted one. Thor was an avenger and last was heard on earth, his brother was dead. Died doing some weird heroic shit that absolved him of his crimes post-mortem. Well, all those rumors had been dirty Lies because he was alive, in power, and according to Lys, Thor had abdicated the throne in favor of living on earth.

Which raised some very concerning questions that you didn’t in particular want to have answered. SHEILD already had that whole fiasco with Hydra infiltration, Captain America was a war criminal on the run, and Queens had it’s own local hero with the powers of an insect.  
There was a lot to not think about. You just wanted to live a normal life. This hero and villain stuff was a bit too much for you.

Sadly, as Lys went about picking out dresses for you to consider, you groaned. This was your life now. Across the universe on an alien planet ruled by a guy who’d once invaded your own.  
At least the green dress was kind of nice.

Dressed to impress, Lys led you to what you guessed was the throne room, given it’s way too tall ceiling, big gaudy pillars, a very funky shaped throne, and the fact Loki was sitting in said throne holding a phallic looking staff like he was a sexy dark wizard come to dole out quests in some new World of Warcraft expansion.  
“I see you’ve recovered. I trust there will be less fainting this time around?” His legs were wide apart, typical male. Manspreading to show his authority and make himself feel all powerful. You bet he had a power kink and was secretly a sub. A bitch boy like him was a bottom for sure.  
You stayed silent, your mind coming up with any insult you could think of but wisely keeping it to yourself.  
“No questions, concerns? Most humans would be screaming by now- or at least threatening me with Thor’s justice.” You bite you tongue, and Loki smiles at your twisted expression.  
“But, just to clarify- Thor is well aware I am current ruling King and the Allfather. _He_ was the one who gave me the throne in his absence. Abdication for the sake of a mortal lover who, as the tabloids tell me, dumped him.” You actually knew that. It had been all over the news. Thor’s unnamed lover had left him citing stability issues.  
“Honestly, I think she made the right choice. He never did appreciate the more career minded women but, none the less, he has given up his rights to the crown so here I am darling.” Loki made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “King Loki, at your service.”

“Okay, so when can I go home?” It was the first thing that came to mind, begging to be asked. Perhaps not what Loki expected given his confused look then heavy sigh.  
“About that. Unfortunately for you, Amora, the woman who’s necklace you picked up is still on earth and no doubt she sensed that said necklace is no longer where she left it.” You don’t see how it’s your problem. Sounds like a Loki problem to you.  
“Which also means she will know who took it. As we’ve been trying to capture her for oh, roughly 50 odd years giving her the advantage of sending you home and tipping her off we’re aware of her movements would just make her slink back into the shadows.” He holds up a hand, cutting off your protest before you can begin.  
“She would track you down and likely kill you for revealing her whereabouts. We knew she was in the nine realms but not where. Knowing she is on earth makes our search much easier. For that simple fact, she would take revenge, of that I do not doubt.” The look in his face, that cold hard stare tells you he’s entirely serious. He’s not lying about this Amora’s capacity for revenge over an accident, and her dangerousness. 

“So for now, you’ll be my guest. And trust me, I’d rather not have you here either, but that is the way of things as they are.” He’s scowling. That makes two of you. You’d also like to not you know, be in the same place as a sociopathic lunatic.  
“But, I swore to Thor I would be… kind to any human I ran across. Even more so, I am sworn to protect the nine realms, which regrettably, includes your precious earth.” He sounds like he really hates it, you think, likely because he got the boot on his imperialistic ass last time he visited. 

“So how long will it take?” You ask. They basically just have to look around where you live right? Call in Thor or somebody. Can’t be that hard now that they know where this Amora is.  
Loki looks at you blankly. “What part of ‘trying to capture for over 50 years’ do you not understand?” He rubs his forehead, one eye fixed on you.  
“It could be days, weeks, possibly even years. It all depends on how well my brother can secure earth’s co-operation while we try to locate Amora.”  
“Can’t you just-“ You wave you hand in the air as Loki huffs at you patronizingly, “-go in?”  
“I would and I can, but Midgard, your Earth, wishes to maintain it’s multi-country sovereignty. I have no intention of marching my men and starting a war needlessly because your people are afraid of every little thing.”  
“You did try to-“  
“I am very aware of what I did girl, do not speak of things you do not know.” He snaps at you, complete with fingers and all.  
“I am the Allfather, and I won’t have my people going to a war they would win by a landslide, killing innocents who would only be caught in the crossfire because your leaders will not yield and react badly to foreign entities. I need Amora captive or dead, not your entire race.”

You somber up a bit. He’s speaking responsibly but-  
“So I’m just stuck here then?”  
“For now.”  
“I can’t! I- I have work! A home! I have- oh my god I have a car payment due.” Loki laughs a bit. “This isn’t funny!”  
“Dear girl, it is. I may loathe Midgard and find your people to be exasperating at best, but I am not without understanding. You arrived here by accident and by no fault of your own. Had Odin actually held Amora accountable, she’d not be out causing chaos and you’d never found her necklace and wound up here. In this, Asgard has failed, and so it must make reparations.” 

“But-“ You stammer. This is all to much. Too much in one day. If perhaps Loki sensed this, or he’d just grown tired of having to entertain you, he nods.  
“It’s been a day. You’re going to have a panic attack later and possibly go into shock as you come to terms with it, but this is the situation. For no, go back to your rooms and rest. I’ll have Lys fetch you for dinner if you’re well enough for it.” He nods at you and suddenly, Lys is by your side, gently tugging on your arm.

“Oh, on moment.” He smiles. “I don’t think you ever properly introduced yourself to me.” You flinch. Really? Can’t you just leave? Telling him your real name seems like a bad idea so-  
“Victoria.” He tilts his head. “Victoria of Earth your Majesty.” You give him the most over exaggerated bow you can muster, anger and fear in every pore. Loki just smirks.

“A half lie. Victoria isn’t your name.” You pale.  
“God of lies Darling. Try again.” You stare at him. He’s mocking you making light of the fact he’s completely upended your entire life just because- because he can. You snap, your fear and rage making you bold.  
“You aren’t even worthy to know my name.”

That does something. A dark look crosses over his face, and your fear worsens. He could kill you if he really wanted to. Lys still holds onto your arm, and you can feel her trembling.  
“I was going to have someone help you integrate, get accustomed to Asgard given the likelihood of a prolonged stay, but I will reconsider this kindness.” He hisses.  
“Know this little _Victoria_ , everything you want, everything you have or will have is by my good will. If you have a desire, only I can grant it to you. I am not obligated to give you rooms, a handmaiden, good food- I do this because you are as much a victim of Amora’s schemes as anyone but if you continue to disrespect me, I will take them away. The dungeons are no place for pretty young maidens, much less ones with runaway mouths.” He’s seething, the anger barely contained.

“Get her out of my sight Lys. If I so much as see her before dinner, I will hold you personally accountable.” Your newfound babysitter squeaks, she actually squeaks, tugging you forcefully with her and you walk (briskly), out of the throne room and right back to where you woke up. 

“Did you have to anger him?” She wails. “He was going to give you anything you wanted- you would have had every coin of the royal coffers at your disposal, maids, fine dresses, anything! Now he’s furious!” She was fretting, worse than you, and oddly, it kind of helped calm your own nerves.

“He’s an asshole-“  
“OF COARSE HE’S AN ASSHOLE! BOTH ODINSONS ARE! BUT LOKI-“ She wails. “Loki at least thinks before he acts. He doesn’t just cast aside people or make them suffer needlessly!”  
“He invaded my home!”  
“At the behest of his captors!” That makes you pause.  
“Wait, are you meaning he was forced to invade-“  
Lys pauses her fretting, looking at you like you’re an idiot. “Didn’t Thor tell your people that? Loki was under the thrall of-“ She hesitates, “-I cannot say his name, but he is very powerful, and very terrible. Even Odin feared him. Thor found out shortly after his majesty almost died to prevent the dark elves’s plot during the convergence. King Loki was bespelled at the time and was forced to invade Midgard or else forfeit his life and the lives of those in Asgard.” You don’t believe it. That sounded like a lie. A big elaborate one. No way any of it was true.

“Okay, so start from the beginning-“ Lys nods, sitting down next to you and begins telling you the story of the Odinsons, and how Loki became both Asgard’s greatest bane and it’s greatest boon.

By the time Lys has finished your story you’ve realized several things.  
One- Loki was under mind control and had to invade earth or watch Asgard be invaded then be killed when it fell.  
Two- He’d managed to barely shake off the control long enough to purposely fail invading earth.  
Three- Thor wasn’t the one who had single-handedly stopped the crazy dark elves in London years back. Loki apparently had been the one to get the Aether off of Asgard and get Thor to earth so he could finish off this Malkeith guy.  
Four- He almost died, which was apparently a thing that had happened several times now.  
Five- Thor gave up the throne willing for a ‘Jane Foster’ who had later left him.  
Six- He chose to maintain his abdication, wanting to be an avenger- protecting earth and fighting ‘evil’.  
Seven- Loki had Thor’s support as king and even made regular visits to check in.  
Eight- Loki was apparently a really good king- Asgard hadn’t seen growth economically and socially in years, (which was like, thousands of years for them).  
Nine- Loki was pissed as all hell with you and the only way he’d likely offer you anything would be if you begged him and apologized.  
“It’s not personal, it is simply how kings are. Even Thor is that way if you wound his pride and reject his kindness enough times. Odin was worse though, if you’d spoken that way to Odin, he’d have locked you up!”

Lys, gotta love her, a total champ being so optimistic. In hearing her speak at length though, you could tell she was being genuine. Loki was a good king, and after you had time to think about it, he _had_ been extremely generous with you. He could have easily have sent you home to likely be killed. He could easily invade earth to commit a witch hunt for this Amora woman. He could have demanded you in a jail cell but he did none of those things.  
Instead he gave you a nice room, better than any 5 star hotel, lovely dresses, (if all green), and was providing you with food. Which did remind you-  
“Lys,” You ask, the woman smiling, “weren’t we supposed to go to dinner?” She pales. She forgot to.  
“Oh no-“ He panicking starts back up again, and you just sort of… Laugh. She’s so earnest, but really, you don’t mind missing dinner. 

After calming Lys down, (weren’t you the one supposed to go into shock and have a panic attack?), she said she’d get you something from the kitchens, telling King Loki that you felt unwell to join him.

Hours later, belly full, Lys gone home for the night, you laid in the all too large bed, staring up at the gilded ceiling.  
Asgard, what you had seen of it, was beautiful in it’s own way, but it wasn’t home. It absolutely wasn’t home. It was only with Lys gone that you began to sob, your panic attack finally happening, letting your emotions run wild while you tried to come to terms with it. How long you lay in the bed, broken, scared, sobbing you had no idea, but when you calmed, the night sky was dark, and stars blinked in and out of view. You needed to get out, to walk to do something. Your body had adrenaline to work off, and the only thing you could think to do was walk. So walk you did.  
Exploring the palace in the dead of night was peaceful. No loud throngs of people. Just the guards standing watch occasionally asking if you were lost or alright. But no one bothered you. No one was there to make you afraid.

No one was, until you found the greenhouse.  
It was lovely, all sorts of flowers in bright bloom even in the dark of night. A rose was bright red and smelled so nice, however when you reached to touch it.  
“I would refrain from doing that.” His voice wasn’t loud so much as startling. Loki was across the pathway, dressed down in what you guessed was his casual clothes. You were in a nightgown, covered by a nice robe. Asgardian pajamas.  
“They may look like roses but in fact they’re from another realm- the thorns secrete a toxin that paralyzes those foolish enough to try to pull them.” He sighs, walking over to you then looking at the flower in question.  
“We keep them so we might make antidotes and test them for medicinal uses. They are however, one of the more lovely flowers in the garden.” He seems almost normal like this, and also you not, not angry like he was earlier in the day. There was no time like the present they say when an opportunity came.  
“I’m sorry.” You tell him, his gaze shifting from the flower to you. “I had time to think and- you could do any number of things to make me miserable, but you didn’t.” You look at him, trying to not come off too strong. “So I’m sorry.” There, matter setteled.

“Thank you for the apology. It does not mean you are forgiven however.” You stare at him, eyes wide. He smirks, reaching down to pull the rose lookalike free, pricking his fingers.  
You let out a started cry before he begins speaking.  
“Funny thing about these flowers is their toxin only affects Midgardians, Elves, and Asgardians. Did Lys tell you what I am?” You blink, trying to keep up with this man’s mental gymnastics.  
“That’s you’re a frost giant?”  
“Jotun if you wish to be more polite about it. Frost giant might be accurate, but it would be like me calling you ‘earthling’.” You frown. “Exactly, not untrue, but not very flattering all the same.”

He walks over to a nearby bench, sitting down and beginning to pull the thorns from the flower one by one.  
“Sit.” You stand there, uncertain. He was so haughty and prideful, lording over you before so why is he now being so casual.  
“Victoria is what you wish to be called correct?” You nod. “Please, Victoia sit. Do note, I do not say please very often.” You bite you lip joining him on the bench. An awkward silence follows for a while as he begins using the thorns to peel away bits of flesh from the flower stem.

“I contacted Thor shortly after you arrived and informed him of the situation. He’ll be arriving tomorrow to vouch for me and hopefully, give word on what earth’s leaders say of my sending men to capture Amora. I had a feeling that with my prior history, having Thor verify what I say is true would put you at ease.” You blink at him while he works. He didn’t have to do that. He had been… considerate. Ever after you had insulted him.

“Lys told me that you’ve made Asgard prosper.” He keeps working. “She told me you made trade better, opened up relations with other realms? She said you’re a good king.” You look at the ground.  
“I think I can understand why.” You can’t help this apprehension. You’ve not been here a full day, and this Loki is so… different than the man on the videos. That man was manic, cruel- this man was… well. He was a king, and a considerate one at that.

“Oh, you shouldn’t go trusting me yet. I am still a monster.” You look up at him, watching in mild horror as pale skin gives way to blue, whorls and markings on his skin are raised in dark blue lines. His eyes turn from a glittering emerald green to a dazzling ruby red.  
“Jotuns are by Asgardian definition, monsters after all. We’re a brutal, savage race that places power above all things, and as the Allfather, I have more power than any other.” He smirks, reaching out to cup you chin as you remain still, mesmerized.  
“I am the kind of monster sweet and lovely maidens should do well to avoid in the dark of night.” Your mind should have focused on the veiled threat but so close, you can’t help the question.  
“You think I’m lovely?”

He lets go and shakes his head, chuckling. “I threaten you, and all you can ask is if I find you comely? I may dislike humans in general, but I am still male.” He purs, and it’s then you realize how close he is, and as his skin returns to the pale visage you know, your mind and body decide to let you know just what you find that form to be.  
“You are a very beautiful woman, one that, were the situation not what it is, I would more than happily seduce and deflower right here.” The flower in his hand is lifted to your view. It’s barren of thorns, and the stem is short, long enough to perhaps pin in hair or on a pocket. You’re blushing however, at Loki’s sudden blatant flirting.

“Do you come onto all your guests or am I just lucky?” He smiles.  
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He set the flower in your lap. In your lap, right next a very intimate part of you. The symbolism isn’t lost. 

You want to pretend that the genocidal alien didn’t just say he wanted to fuck you. Your body might not protest, but your mind does not want to linger on the sudden awareness you have to him and his attractiveness.  
“You said if I needed anything... I could ask for it right?” He hums, looking out at the garden seeming pleased with himself.  
“Something to that effect yes.”  
“Would it be possible to let me read a few books?” As if to answer, a book forms in a flash of gold, landing in his hand.  
“Can you read the books we have though?” Is his question. Looking into the first few pages your face falls. It’s an entirely different language. “Allspeak allows us to universally be understood and understand others, but our texts are not so enchanted. Asgardian is an entirely different language to you so while I could give you books, they’d be of no benefit.” You mutter a small ‘oh’ and look at the flower in your lap.

“Perhaps however-“ Loki eyes you, head tilted, eyes running down your body. “Take off the robe.”  
What? “What?” He doesn’t really expect...  
“Take it off. I want to see something before I make my decision.” Blushing you stand up and undo the robe. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re covered. Modest. Or at least most of you is. Your nipples betray you, tiny little indents that shame you as Loki’s eyes catch on them briefly.  
“You may put the robe back on.” Hastily you do so, and he looks a bit disappointed.  
“You did greatly offend me you know. In front on the court no less. I have every right to deny you but-“ He licks his lips, as chill races down your spine and heat pools in your belly. Asshole alien kings shouldn’t be this attractive. 

"I’ll make you a deal.” He says. “I will grant every request you have if-“ He reaches over fingers hovering by your hair, “-You let me touch you.” You reel back, scrambling up and off the bench. Your panic causes his laugh to erupt and red fills your cheeks.  
“Sweet maiden- nothing so vulgar. Not at first anyway.”  
“I’m not going to whore myself-“  
His gaze sharpens. “I am not asking you for sex little Victoria. Allow me to explain if you would.” You remain standing as he elaborates.  
“Each request you make, you shall grant me leave to touch a certain part of your body. Hands, ears, lips-“ He smirks, “-each part of you that you pay me for my services and boons, I will have full access to at any time I so desire. The more you request, the more I can touch. But once you have given a part of yourself to me as payment, you cannot rescind.”  
You’re embarrassed and livid. Is this some kind of sick joke?  
“You expect me to just- to just let you-“  
“In exchange for hiring you a tutor so you might learn Asgardian, you will allow me to touch your hair.” You blink. Your hair? He wants to touch your hair of all things? Your shock isn’t hidden and Loki nods.  
“I find you attractive and, the idea of seducing you unwittingly is a pleasing diversion. Bit by bit, you giving little parts over until I have everything but your maidenhead and virtue.” You step back as he stands, a dark look in his eyes a look that makes you squirm and feel heat and wetness between your thighs.  
Loki is staring at you with blatant lust and it’s both frightening and highly arousing. 

“I won’t force you to service me in anyway, nor will I violate your trust and expose myself upon you if you worry about that. No, I just want to seduce you- make you hate me because you want me.” He’s the devil in dark leather.  
“Why- why would I agree to something like that?” He picks up the fallen flower, holding it out.  
“Because dearest, unless you ask me for what you want, you’ll get nothing. No coin to spend in the market, no help to gather craft supplies, no escorts so you can travel the capitol, no tutor to help you learn to read the only books in the kingdom.” He pushed the flower closer.

“One part of yourself for each request, and to ensure it’s fair, if you give that part up, I must fulfill.” You stare at the red blossom in his hand.  
“Who’s to say this isn’t a lie?” Loki nods,  
“Clever little maiden. Very well,-“ the air around you grows heavy, and smells faintly of ozone.  
“I Loki Laufeyson, named Odinson, King of Asgard, Heir of Jotunheim, Allfather, God of Lies, God of Mischief, God of Chaos, do so avow to uphold all oaths mentioned prior to this binding, if I so shall break it, the other party shall be granted any boon or favor she so desires.” The flower in hand goes from a vibrant red to a lustrous gold.  
“Will that suffice?” He asks and you scowl at him.  
“Do I need to make a grand speech as well?” He nods.  
“A binding is a binding little maiden, the magic will only be true if one accept it to be.” You look at him and realize he’s given you an out. If he can’t complete a task and collects his ‘payment’ you’re free to ask him for anything, no payment needed after that.  
“Fine.” You grab the flower from his hand. 

“I-“ You look at him, “ (y/n), called Victoria of Earth also known as Midgard, accept the terms laid before me.” Loki looks pleased.  
“Will that suffice?” You hiss at him. As soon as you ask, the flower explodes in your hand, gold dust falling and vanishing into the open air.  
“THE HELL-”  
“Ah, it’s been a long time since I’ve done a binding this elaborate but-“ He reaches forward, grabbing a lock of you hair in his hands and you freeze. His eyes are dark, the green almost gone. “(y/n).” Your name sounds so alluring on his lips and you blush. “Tomorrow I’ll have a tutor sent after morning meal. I hope you will join me.” The lock of hair is lifted to his lips, where he kisses it softly before pulling away.

“Sleep well dearest.” He turns and begins to walk deeper into the garden. “You have a big day a head of you.”  
Unsettled, you race back to your rooms, darting under the covers and closing your eyes. Sleep comes quickly, and in your dreams you feel his hand all over your skin, your name chanted in his voice.  
You never notice the small golden rose marked in the palm of your hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Thor explains some things and Loki collects his second payment.
> 
> Please comment what you think Loki should claim from reader next!  
> (With the omission of Lips, Breasts, Ass, or Vagina)


	3. Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki takes his payment after you learn your fate.

When Loki had told you to rest, your body had decided to rebel against his advice and your wishes, having you spending the next two hours wondering what happened. He was supposed to be evil. A crazy alien prince bent on ruling earth and starting a war. But here…  
Here he was the king, a good king, one who looked out for his subjects and took into account his position and relation to other worlds. Loki was unlike anything you expected, anything you’d been told. Shifting uneasily in your bed, you tried to make sense of him, but came up with nothing. He might be a good king, but he’d wanted that vulgar deal with you and you- You’d agreed to it. In a way, you knew he was doing it as a form of humiliation. He was making you have to beg him for anything you wanted, and he’d prey upon your embarrassment, shame, and pride. It was cruel, but-

‘everything but your maidenhead and virtue’

He wasn’t going to force himself upon you. He might tease, torment, antagonize, and he couldn’t just touch you without you agreeing. He wanted your consent. A forced consent wasn’t true consent though. He just wanted to make you squirm. Asshole. You thought of him and the closer you got to sleep, the more amorous your thoughts became. What did he plan to do? He said seduce you but what did that entail exactly? Would he caress you behind closed doors, gently touching small glimpses of bare skin before flitting away? Or would he be more devious, sneaking touches innocuously in public, masking it as friendliness and causality? Maybe he’d do neither, opting instead for whisking you away to molest you like a man who craved you but could not have you?

All options sounded terrible because they all sounded so… exciting. A tiny thrill to know a man so dangerous desired you, that he had come up with a plan just to torment you. He wanted you to crave him and your brain was aiding him plenty in that endeavor.  
Sleep eventually did come, but not before your fingers had guiltily made you do the same.

Waking up to Lys drawing open the curtains gave you a start- jumping nearly off the bed when you realized someone else was in the room. She profusely apologized but really- a handmaiden. She acted more a maid.   
“What does it mean, to be a handmaiden?” You asked her. She smiled, and told you that her role was to assist you in daily tasks. Dressing, doing your hair and makeup, provide company. She’d been one of the late Queen’s handmaidens, but unlike her fellow women-  
“So wait, you are supposed to get married? Your dad sent you here to play glorified maid so you could find a husband?” You couldn’t believe it. Just when you thought Asgard might be you know, progressive and shit, you find out this archaic patriarchy stuff.   
Lys sighed, nodding that it was true, she was to be a handmaiden until she found a suitable suitor. And of course, you found a husband.  
“WHAT?” A handmaiden could not wed before her lady, not even if she had a suitor. Only if her lady released her from her duties or she left service would she be able to. Most women rarely did, since if you were a handmaiden at the time of your betrothal, your lady was to aid your wedding and impending marriage. 

This was some grade A ye olde England type stuff you only read about in game of thrones junk. 

After reeling in the whole newfound knowledge Lys was basically going to be a single woman for your entire stay, (which could be your whole life given you had 0 plans to get married, least of all to an Asgardian), you went to the dining hall for morning meal. You called it breakfast. They called it morning meal.  
Whatever. You just hoped they had pancakes. 

They did not have pancakes.  
Most of the breakfast foods were smoked meats and breads, some eggs, and fresh cut fruit. It was good, sure, but not exactly anything crazy new.

You ate some ‘bildgesnipe links’ which as Lys whispered to you while a few men stared, was considered particularly unsavory due to their odd flavor. Frankly it tasted like a hotdog from a cheap baseball stadium. Nothing a little ketchup wouldn’t fix, if you know, they had ketchup. About halfway through the meal you were joined by none other than the instigator of your sleeplessness. 

The man looked particularly pleased with himself as he saw you, going so far as to greet you by name. (Later, Lys asked what the hell you did to make him agreeable again. You told her very simply ‘later’).  
“Did you sleep well (Y/N)?” He asked, holding out his cup for a woman to pour him what you wanted to assume was apple juice, even though you could tell by some of the men and women’s flushed expressions it was certainly not apple juice.  
“I slept.” Was the bland answer you gave him which he smirked about.  
“Thoughts keeping you up? You did have a rather eventful day and I’d hate for you to be falling ill due to stress.”  
“The only stress I have is how the hell I can get someone to go put in my car payment for me.”   
You realized what you said as Loki’s smirk widened.  
“You can always ask anything of the crown (Y/N), my resources are at your disposal.”   
You grit your teeth. “Thank you, your majesty.” You had to be polite. The tension in the air was palatable, and everyone with an ounce of common sense could tell Loki was toying with you.   
“Loki.” He said, eyes gleaming with playful satisfaction. “Call me Loki dear (Y/N), you are not one of my subjects, though, hearing you refer to me your king is rather pleasing.”   
Lys choked on her ‘apple juice’. A few women and men looked away from Loki and yourself.

This guy knew exactly what he was saying and doing and had no qualms about letting everyone know it.   
Great, you thought, now everyone was going to think Loki was doing what he did because he wanted to fuck you- which yes, was true, but you thought that by being king he’d have had a little more decorum!

“If that is all, I think I am quite full.” You stood, Lys scrambling to stand after you. You didn’t ask to be excused and you knew this was probably some kind of faux pass by not waiting or something but you wanted to get the hell away from dreamy green eyes.   
“(Y/N),” he called after you, no longer teasing, “my brother will be arriving shortly, have Lys escort you to the velvet room to hold audience with him.” You turn and putting on your best customer service smile you reply.  
“I don’t doubt it will be my pleasure to meet Prince Thor.” Loki’s fingers twitched. You almost missed it, but he kept his anger well hidden. Two could play at a game of assholes you thought smugly.

“Why do you insist on making life harder for yourself?” Lys moaned. “You just had to take a jab at him using Thor didn’t you?”  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about Lys, I was just being honest. And Thor is still technically a prince yes?”  
“Yes but his majesty is... prickly when it comes to his brother. Some still favor Thor as king, abdication or not.” You snort. Loki had a complex, not your deal.   
“Miss, please!” Lys whined after you. “You mustn’t taunt the king. He’s a fair man but if you continue to antagonize him-“   
A tut from you made Lys go quite. She was nice if a bit high strung.

The velvet room was self fulfilling. It was covered in velvet. Plush velvet everything. Lys said it was a favorite from the light elf ambassadors hence, it’s style. It also was Thor’s _least_ favorite room which was Loki had probably set the meeting place to be there.   
He told you so himself.  
“Forgive me, I just find it funny Loki would still do this as a means to annoy me.” You raise an eyebrow. Were they not on good terms? Thor caught the look and shook his head smiling, “he’s always done this, don’t think it something he does out of spite or pettiness. I’ve hated this room since we were children. He would always- AH HA!” Thor’s exclamation made you jump as the God of Thunder, Avengerer, pulled up what looked like a small metal dragon from a seat cushion. 

“He probably hoped I’d sit on it and embarrass myself. And old toy, nothing more.” He did sit down but what followed could only be described as the most cliché’d whoopie-cushion noise coming from under Thor.  
You couldn’t help the laugh that threatened to bubble up while Thor groused and muttered under his breath about childish pranks.   
“I’m sorry, but even you have to admit, that was pretty funny.” Thor sighed and his gaze softened.   
“He is king, but, in many ways, he is still the same brother I always have had. Which is why he asked I speak with you. I take it he’s told you the current situation regarding Amora?” You nod, relaying what Loki had told you. You couldn’t go home without being hunted down, and it would have tipped of the woman in question. Thor’s looks went between understanding, pity, and remorse.  
“-So he said I have to stay here- but- you’re working with the UN to allow some of your people to go down and capture her right?” His face fell entirely when you asked. It did not bode well.  
“I- I am afraid I cannot offer you any good news. Your council of nations does not wish for Asgardian forces to come and extract Amora, yet the readily blame us for her escape in the first place.” Technically they aren’t wrong. “They also, justifiably, do not trust Loki as King, which honestly shouldn’t matter given I am the one asking and would be the one to lead our men.” 

You sink into the chair you’re in with Lys seated nearby, her own small glances of pity making you feel worse.  
“Can’t you assemble the avengers? Call Tony Stark or the Hulk or-“ Thor keeps trying to smile, but you can tell its forced.   
“As much as I wish we could, they are... preoccupied right now. The Sakovia accords limit them greatly, were even I to hunt for Amroa on my own, they would seek to punish me. As stands, your UN refuses Asgard’s aid and does not think her a high enough threat.” Thor sighs, head dropping. “She nearly toppled Asgard once, and yet they think their own forces can subdue her. At the very least, Strange has ensured that she will be unable to escape Earth for the time being.”  
“Strange?” A new avenger? A secret avenger?  
“A powerful sorcerer who resides in your realm. He is charged with protecting it from hostile mystics-“  
“Like Amora.”  
“Like Amora. And Loki if we’re being honest. They don’t like each other very much.” You doubt most people like Loki outside of Asgard.   
“So I’m stuck here until the UN decides it’s full of shit and needs help then?” Thor smirks at your insult to the UN but nods.   
“So it would seem.”  
“Given this is the UN I should probably start shopping around for a house because I doubt they’ll agree on anything in my lifetime.” His look goes from slightly amused to somber quickly.  
“I do not think-“   
“Thor,” you begin, “even if Amora blew up D.C. the leaders would sooner let their countries burn than accept help from a man who once tried to invade and conquer earth. No matter how much good Loki has done here? They don’t see it, they won’t see even if you show them by dragging them here to shove it right in their faces. You could have every single Asgardian say they kiss the ground Loki walks on because they genuinely love him, but it won’t change.” You realize the futility of it.   
“They won’t let Asgard get involved until it’s too late. They wouldn’t want the blame if something went awry and if fell to be Loki’s involvement. It’s not just their fear for their nations, but fear of their own reputations. No one would want to be seen as aligning with him.” Thor’s entire face sinks further as he realizes the depth of your words.

“You think they would rather suffer than accept Asgard’s aid?” You want to soften the blow, make Thor smile and think that it’s possible but-  
“Yes. So long as Loki is King, that’s all anything from Asgard will be- an extension of him.” The thunderer looks annoyed then, as if something else as struck him.  
“Is that what you expect they think of me then? That I am nothing more than my brother’s pawn?”  
You glare at him. “Of course you idiot! They’re terrified of him, of you! You’re Gods for fuck’s sake. He brought an alien army with him and killed people in one of the greatest terrorist attacks the world has ever known. You didn’t kill him, but took him home where a bunch of shit happened they never knew about, and suddenly he’s king? How do you think that looks to them Thor? How do you think they view the man they’ve only seen as a monster?”

Thor stand suddenly, the energy around him thrumming as his voice drops in dark octaves.  
“My brother is no monster.” Thor is angry, but you’ve already faced Loki- your own anger and fury won’t let you be cowed by Thor either.  
“They don’t care about facts Thor, they care about themselves.” You hiss, standing up and stepping forward to him. “I want to believe they’ll pull their heads out of their asses, but I’m not an idiot. Nothing will happen Thor, not until it’s too late.” You realize you’re crying, and Thor steps back, the wind blown from your sails. You sniffle back the few tears that escaped, muttering an apology. You didn’t mean to upset him or raise your voice. You just doubt that anything will get done.

It’s a while before Thor speaks.  
“Do not apologize. You were merely telling me truths I did not wish to hear. Stark said much the same when I told him the information. He may not trust Loki, but he trusts me; and he trusts that if I say Amora is a threat, she is a threat.” You nod your head.   
“I will speak to my brother about the chances of a prolonged stay. I may not be heir to the throne, but I will see to it that my vault is at your disposal.” You gasp and sputter.  
“V-vault? Like, is that some kind of bank? I mean- what?” He laughs this time.  
“It is a close approximation. I was the heir and am still a prince. You need not fear lacking funds while staying in Asgard.” You gape at him. Is this was getting a sugar daddy feels like? Having unlimited funds for whatever you wanted? It’s surreal.

“I- that is- wow.” You blink. “Wow, um. Thank you.” He chuckles again and reaches out for a handshake.  
You take it, your small hand engulfed in his own.   
“My brother is often insufferable, but he is a good man. Plus he has a weakness for helpless pretty women –“  
“I am not helpless!” You scoff.  
“-of course not. You have your charms, which, used right, my brother will trip over himself for.” It’s hard to picture Loki as the people pleaser type, much less the kind of man to yield to you, especially after last night.  
“….” Thor looks at you before asking. “He hasn’t tried to make any deals or bargains with you has he?”  
The look you give him must have given you away, because immediately Thor is yelling Loki’s name.

“I will speak to you later. Of all the things-“ He leave you there, stunned with Lys gaping, yelling down the halls for Loki.  
Everything is surreal.

The tutor you met with shortly after. A old portly man who’s first comment was to ask why a lowly thing like you wanted to read. The old asshole was rude, but if Loki had sent him, Loki had filled his end of the bargain. You didn’t have much room to argue. 

It’s late in the afternoon Thor finds you again in what can only be described as a small library. Lys said she was instructed to take you here rather than the Palace Library, as Loki was wanting to show it to you himself. Probably to brag or something. Either way, Thor had found you, looking at the room with a certain wariness.  
“I promise, no whoopie cushions are here.”  
“A what?” He turned to you confused.   
“The thing you put under a seat?” You motion at him. “To you know… toot.” He chuckles.   
“Toot.” Is what you hear him mutter. “no, I am just wondering why you’re in Loki’s private study.”  
His _what_.  
“Excuse me?” Thor looks exasperated.   
“You didn’t know did you.” The god sends a look to Lys who is busy with her face in a book. “Of course not. Well. Loki told me of your bargain and… While I am sorry he’s done so, I cannot say I blame him.” Your cry of indignation is met with derisive evading eyes.   
“You insulted him and he kept his temper- granted the demands are bit much but it’s not that bad. He told me the terms and frankly they’re quite fair.”  
“He wants to touch me!”  
“Not without your consent and not without your willingness to allow it. I realize it’s a bit… aggressive, but if you truly protest he will not seek to do more than tease you.” He pauses. “He hasn’t given you any gifts has he?”   
“What? No. I mean he sent me a tutor so I could learn your language and read but nothing else.”  
“What did he ask in exchange for the tutor?”  
“…” You blush, feeling suddenly exposed, knowing Lys has no idea and will badger you later. “…my hair.” You whisper.  
Thor grins. “Ask him to braid it for you.” Your confused. Ask him to braid your hair? If the asshole wants to touch it, he can damn well ask.  
“If you allow him to see you vulnerable, he will not take advantage of you. He likes pretty women, and if you charm him, you might get him to aid you in things without needing to strike a trade with each request.” Somehow, you get the feeling Loki has possibly done this sort of thing before, and like magic Thor catches on.  
“Loki _thrives_ on making others feel uncomfortable or embarrassed when they’ve personally wronged him in some way. If you show him you are less uncomfortable but more afraid, he will not treat you harshly.” He grabs your shoulder giving you a friendly shake.  
“I trust him. I know that is much to ask, but my brother is not the same man who invaded your home. Give him the chance to prove himself. Just… remember he was given the title god of Mischief for a reason.”   
“Yeah well.” You cross your arms not wanting to admit it. “The fart set up was funny, I’ll give him that.”  
“I’ve lived with him all my life and even I still fall for his tricks.” You don’t have the heart to tell Thor that’s a sign of him not being the brightest bulb in the box. 

Your conversation shifts to you and your home. Work missed, payments due-  
“I will speak with Stark about these things. Your home shall not be taken nor your car.” He says it like it’s an oddity. “Knowing Stark he will pull strings at your place of employment so you shall return in good standing. As for you family-“ He hesitates.  
“We will come up with a story somehow. The fewer people know you are here, the better.” Your eyes go wide.  
“Wait- so no one knows I’m even here?”  
“No, and it must stay that way.” Thor’s face darkens. “The UN believes my brother a man determined to come back to finish what he began years ago. If word got out that he was hosting a human woman here, even if for her own safety and the safety of their world to help capture Amora, they would see it as kidnapping.” Thor has come to terms with it. That the UN is less an ally and more a barrier.   
“Stark is not the most eloquent, but he understands mitigated risk in battle. I will tell him and a few others I trust. The less know, the safer you will be, and the easier your return will be as well.” 

You slump. Not even your family can know. You’re alone here. No friends. No way to talk to anyone- you’re alone and it hits you how alienated you are.   
“Tell me some things you miss- I’ll get them for you and bring them next time I visit.” It’s a kind gesture, and makes a small smile come back to your face. 

Dinner is a rather light affair, Thor staying and encouraging you to talk and have a conversation. But you’re not there, your mind thinking on how you’re missing from home and no one will know why. How here, you’re alone. Thor, bless him, he tries, but it obvious you’re recluse, Lys trying to even kindly get you talking of things you like but it’s met with the same reactions you give Thor. Forced smiles and far off stares at you plate. Loki keeps mostly to himself and occasionally speaks to Thor and a few people at the long table, but not much. He doesn’t even try to engage you.

The ennui you feel drags on, and eventually you just can’t take it, standing up from the table and leaving altogether. Lys moves to follow you but you smile, telling her you’ll find your way back fine.

You do, and you want to collapse on the bed. Cry. Rage. Scream. But it’s like you’re numb, floating in a dream. You sit by the window, overlooking a city, a capital so many would kill for the chance to see but all you can feel is a general longing for home. It’s glittering, golden- alien and foreign. It’s not your home. Beautiful it might be, but it’s not comforting. It feels fake, indifferent to the natural world and lacking the organic green that even a city has sprinkled about it. 

A knock on your door rouses you. It’s no doubt Lys, fretting over you. However, it’s not the fretting handmaiden, it’s the man of the hour, Loki himself. He’s in what you guess is Asgardian casual. A loose green tunic, some fitted leggings and long boots. He looks almost normal not in those ornate leathers and armors.   
“Can I help you?” Loki’s face is indifferent.   
“I’ve come to collect my payment.” You make a small sound when he barges into your room, sitting himself on your bed.  
“I- You can’t just come in here!” You snap at him. Your anger seems to please him, as he smiles.  
“Sit (Y/N), I want to enjoy what is mine.” His gaze unsettles you as you recall Thor’s words. He thrives on making people embarrassed or uncomfortable. Steeling yourself, you walk over, sitting next to him.   
“My hair is your’s to touch.” You glare at him. “Which means not cutting it.” He chuckles, reaching to play with a few strands.   
“Of course. I would not seek to mar your beauty. I just want to enjoy the feel of a woman’s locks.” That sounds so skeevy. Blushing he pulls your hair to one side, running fingers through it, gently untangling it. He’s mindful, not touching your scalp, ears, face. Just your hair, like he said.   
You can’t control the blush that comes when he leans in, pulling the hair to his nose and inhaling. It should be so creepy, but the way he does it, the softness in his face, his eyes, its like he enjoys it in a way that isn’t sexual in the slightest.

“Do you use fragrance in your baths?” His voice cuts the tension in the air and you blush at the intimate question.   
“I do. Why?” He pulls back, letting the hair fall. You reach up, brushing it as if to assure yourself nothing has changed about it.  
“Do you particularly enjoy floral scents? Citrus? I’m curious.” His eyes sparkle in the light and you look away from the playfulness in them.   
“I like….” You tell him and he hums.   
“I’ll have Lys get you soaps of that sort then. It suits you.” You look back at him and bit confused.  
“Your preferred fragrance. Personally, I enjoy evergreen and sandalwood.” You don’t get it. Why this conversation? He was all sleazy one moment, gentle the next, now teasing playful-  
You scoff, turning around so your back is to him.  
“You came here to play with my hair so go on. Do it and just-“  
“-Leave you alone?” He finishes for you and you realize you’ve just snapped at him for no reason. Yet, he hums to himself, a tune you don’t know as he threads fingers into your hair. It feels nice, but-  
“May I touch your scalp?” You blink, he’s asking?  
“I… guess so?” He makes a small pleased noise, his fingers sinking into your hair fulling rubbing gently on your skin and you don’t pick up on it before you feel yourself relaxing into his touch.   
It’s a massage. A simple massage, intimate in a way that is void of sex or desire. It’s relaxing, comforting, and you can’t help the soft sigh that escapes you. 

He keeps at it, your entire body going limp as he hums his gentle tune. You feel embarrassment, but it’s not born of shame. It’s born of something unlike desire but rather- this is intimate. Perhaps more so than other things he could have wanted. You lick your lips to gather the courage to ask him.  
“Will-“ His hand stop their brushing. “-would you braid my hair for me?” You feel Loki’s fingers pull away and ghost over the back of your neck.

“Do you promise to try and not allow yourself to become so withdrawn in the future?” He asks, and you turn, tears sparkling in your eyes. You don’t know why you want to cry, but you do.  
“You’ve been through more than most. But having you become depressed and withdrawn does not suit you sweet bird. So long as you promise that tomorrow you shall go about and attend your lessons, I will braid your hair.”   
You can’t look at him. He’s supposed to be evil, cruel, a man from hell. This man is distracting. He’s being considerate, gentle and understand and-  
“I hate this.”  
“You seemed to be enjoying my touch.”  
“No, that’s fine.” You wave your hand in the air at him. “I hate feeling like this. Alone, helpless-“ You want to scream but nothing comes up. “I feel like I fucked up.”

He huffs at you, reaching and separating your hair into the three sections.  
“You did. Insulting me was not a wise choice sweet bird.” You almost felt comforted then he had to open his fat mouth and- “But everything else is not your fault. You are a victim of circumstance, nothing more. Now relax, and let me enjoy what is mine.” You don’t reply, letting Loki braid your hair. He hums softly all the while, and you close your eyes, wishing this wasn’t real. That you were home. Unbeknownst to you, you’d begun to cry, tears silently flowing as the man who sent you into mental whiplash with his moods kept his work. Eventually, a single braid is done, and he lets it go, the weight of it resting on the back of your neck.

“In the future,” he says getting of the bed, standing and looking at you calmly, “if you seek solitude, do not feel you must attend gatherings. Your privacy is your own.” You still can’t look at him but a part of you wonders-  
“Loki.” He stops his walk to your door. “Can I get a different tutor?” He turns to face you as you explain.  
“The one I met this morning- he just kept insulting me and being a dick.”  
“Unfortunately most men are.” His quip brings a tiny smile to your face. “If I do, that is another favor.” You look up at him, his face a smile that lacks the cruelty of forcing your hand.   
“Your arms.” You just nod. Perhaps this leaves him unsatisfied, because he walks back to you, lifting the braid as you watch him wide eyed in curiosity. 

He kisses it, eyes closed, face serene. When he opens them that flicker of dark promise is there and your heart races for a second.  
“Sleep well sweet sparrow. I’ll see you in the morn.” He leaves you then, and you go through the motions of getting ready for bed.

As you close your eyes under the covers, you touch your hair. You wonder if he might braid it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, please suggest what body part Loki should claim next!


	4. Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet your teacher and your tormentor

The sound of birds rouses you from your sleep. The morning light just peeking over the horizon and dew still clings to the windows. You don’t really grasp where you are at first, but when the smell of honey wafts in from outside you remember- Asgard. You’re in the realm of the gods. Well, aliens that once were considered gods but still, semantics. The early dawn gives the word a soft warm golden glow that makes the whole place seem even more magic than it is. You note to yourself to ask Lys about that- magic can’t just happen. There has to be some kind of science behind it doesn’t there? Maybe Loki might know?

As you think about him, you feel the weight of your braid against the back of your neck and you blush. Last night had been- well it had been something. You had expected it to be sexually charged, teasing, tormenting, maybe even cruel, but he’d been downright considerate, gentle and informative in his touch. He told you what he was doing and even went so far as to ask to go further. Loki had been remarkably un-Loki like. You wanted to think maybe Thor was right, that maybe Lys wasn’t just bias. Maybe Loki was not the same megalomaniac that had tried to rule earth. But his smile, his eyes- they were so… dark. Predatory but alluring in the danger they promised. He was a handsome man, and he knew it. He was trying to rile you and be all suave. 

You rub the pink from your cheeks as you put your thoughts to how on day 3 of your time on Asgard will be, and you have a hopefully new teacher for your lessons in Asgardian. You want to be able to read, to just gain some semblance of normalcy even if its with something as isolated as reading alone in your room. At least in your room, there are no risks of God-Kings coming around to tease you and make your insides melt with their wicked smiles.  
You barely manage to make it to the bathroom before you think of how you enjoyed his touch. Intimate was it was, it had left you wanting more of it. That soothing rubbing massage that made all the stress melt away. What was his plan? He seemed genuine, but you were a human woman, something that was in your understanding, beneath him. Why try to seduce you if just for fun? He could probably fuck any woman on Asgard so why bother with you?  
Sinking into the water you sigh at the hot temperature seeps into your skin and muscles, easing away tension you didn’t realize you had. King Loki of Asgard was a mystery, and honestly, you were uncertain how you were supposed to handle him.  
Especially after last night.

The answer? Deal with him like he dealt with you- politely and with a detached civility. At breakfast, he greeted you and introduced you to ‘Lady Sif and the Warriors Three.’ Sif you gather from the way she glared and bristled at Loki each time he spoke, must have had a history with him. No woman got that angry from a guy just because he was nearby unless there had been a thing between them in the past.   
The warriors three are.. unique. Volstagg is a red haired man larger than a pro wrestler and just as loud as one would expect. Most of breakfast, he shoves food onto his plate or directly into his mouth, only pausing to ask you about this or that. Hogun is a dark haired man from another realm- Vanaheim apparently. He doesn’t talk at all, but stares at you with unnerving interest that you can’t tell if it’s hostile or not. 

And the final member of the trio is Fandral. A blond man who looks like he crawled right out of a Disney movie and was cast as the would be prince charming. If you know, charming was an egotistically dick who clearly thought some insincere flattery and forced gentlemanly overtures would make you swoon. He was annoying in the purest sense, all through the meal trying to charm you, filling your glass, offering you sweet pastries, telling you about his feats and skills with his sword. Out of the corner of you eye you could tell Loki took a bit of pleasure from your unease and dislike of the blonde’s amorous advances. You tolerate it well enough until finally, when you move to get up, he follows you and steps in front of you, blocking your much desired escape. Your face must have been very expressive, because you can still see the cheerfully amused face of Loki from the corner of you eye as Fandral leans into you with a smile that might have made a weak willed woman swoon.

“My lady, allow me to escort you to your chambers-“  
“How about you escort me to the Bifrost.” Your deadpan stuns him and his smile falters. Loki’s smile however, is getting wider.  
“I- pardon?”  
“So I can kick you off of it and spare every other woman on Asgard the pain of having to deal with you.” Sif snorts her drink as Volstagg laughs; Loki is leaning back into his chair, clearly pleased with your attitude to the flirtatious man.  
“My lady-“  
“I’m not your anything so take a fucking hint blonde.” You storm past him and towards your room. Breakfast had been going so well too. Maybe now however the ‘dashing’ might stop trying to seduce you within the first day you’ve had to decompress the whole ‘stuck on Asgard’ thing.   
Lys, silent through the entire meal, and following you like a loyal hound, seemed a bit shocked at your outburst. But she had relaxed once you both were out of the dining hall. Who knows, maybe she’d already had to deal with Fandral before. 

After a quick rebound in your room and a pep talk from Lys, you’re ready to meet your tutor. She doesn’t know who it will be, but, she was told you were to meet them in one of the study rooms adjacent to the royal library. It was a long walk there, but oh so worth it when you found the place.   
Disney’s Beauty and the Beast had nothing on Asgard’s library.   
The place was over three stories tall, and according to Lys, took up nearly half of the entire north wing of the Palace. It was also smaller than the Sorcerer’s Library in the city- and that place only had books on magic! Needless to say, you were impressed. The Royal library was home to rare books and the royal family’s personal collection. As you went to the room Lys had been instructed to bring you to, she’d pointed out Loki’s particular section of the Library.  
It was the entire top floor. And apparently no one was allowed in without his expressed permission due to the rare and somewhat dangerous nature of books he kept hidden away. It was like telling someone not to eat a cookie then placing the cookie right in front of them. No one allowed in? You planned to get in. 

Smiling as you mentally thought of ways to sneak in once you could, you know, read Asgardian, you didn’t look into the room Lys motioned for you to enter at first, so you didn’t see him for a moment. But with your face turned you saw Lys’s pale face and worried expression only to face your new instructor.

“Expecting someone pet?” Loki sat at the head of a large desk, books piled neatly to one side, papers and pens on the other. He seemed perfectly at ease in the large wooden chair, and his smile was predatory at you.  
“You are relieved of your duties for the remainder of the morning Lys. Return to deliver us our lunches and we’ll go from there.” Loki’s dismissal hand wave was met with your handmaiden letting out a ‘yes your majesty’ squeak before she darted off leaving you and the King alone.

“You cannot be serious.” Arms crossed you faked confidence as you sat on the other side of the desk, the wood chair uncomfortable.   
“Do I look to be in a gaming mood?” He replied, folding his hands and eyeing you. “You had me dismiss the most well versed man in linguistics from your service. Which, I will say, had I known he was as bigoted as he was, he’d have never have been asked. When I spoke to him the other night, he had nothing but disparaging things to say about you.” Loki is smiling, enjoying your scowl.  
“Do you want to know what he said?”  
“You’ll probably tell me anyway.” Loki’s smile breaks to a grin, white teeth showing.  
“That you were a stupid, underdeveloped monkey, that was only good for warming a desperate man’s bed.” Your anger flares up and Loki coos.  
“Your rage is so-“ He sighs, almost in what seems like pleasure, “-beautiful. I cannot help but admire and enjoy how expressive you are.”   
“Do you ever stop?” You hiss at him. “Can’t you just stop teasing me for one damn minute I-“  
He lifts a book from the pile and sets in front of you, open to a page in letters you cannot read.  
“There are few who can read your Midgardian language without the aid of allspeak or spells, even fewer who have the knowledge to teach Asgardian, and nary a handful able to teach Allspeak. I am one of those few. The only others have either other more pressing matters, or, are not people who I would turst you with.”  
“Why? Think I’d snap and them and drive them nuts to the point they quit?” You’re not mincing your words, and this time his smile is smaller, softer.  
“Well, perhaps. But no, they are men. Old, entitled men who unlike your previous would be teacher, _are not known for their ethics_. Loki’s hiss is palatable, and you cringe at the implication.  
“So that left the choice of you or creepy perverts.”  
“I hope you can understand my reasoning then.” You sigh heavily and nod. But, why is he going to teach you? He’s king, not a teacher.

“Won’t this you know?” You wave your hand at him, “interfere with your king business?” He laughs, eyes crinkling.   
“Hardly. Perhaps if this were the start of the season and needed to hold court or if major incident was looming but, as we are in a state of peacetime, I have spare hours. If not here with you, I would be down at the sorcerer’s academy, teaching young mages and spellcasters.” You blink, not sure what he means. He must have seen your confused expression, because Loki elaborates.  
“What you know as magic is somewhat uncommon here- not everyone has a skill for it, though all have a basic grasp. Like any craft, it takes years to master, and most of those who practice are women.” His face mixes, trying to hide something in his expression. You don’t have time to catch it. “As the only soceror with a man’s mind and body, it is critical I go and teach, to encourage the youths enrolled to not leave in pursuit of more… traditionally masculine ventures.”  
“So… what you’re saying is. Magic is for women, weapons are for men?” It wasn’t like it was hard to see the lack of women guards… or women in any job aside from the stereotypical ones.   
Loki is bristling though, but not at you. “Unfortunately. Undoing Odin’s limitations on Asgard has been.. a slow process.” This spikes a bit of your curiosity.  
“So what of women in battle? Are you allowing that?” He catches on quickly, a glint in his eye with understanding the line of questioning.  
“You mean to ask if I wish to abolish gendered roles. In short? Yes, they limit a society and opportunity. A mind is not bound by gender or sex. However, over 5000 years of social roles are not undone in a handful of years.” Your lips are parted just slightly as Loki all but hangs a neon sign over his head that reads ‘Pro-Quality’.  
Loki, would be king of earth, known war criminal, is a fucking feminist. Now you really have seen everything. Your mouth is draw to a smile at the tiny news, and you nod your head. “that’s… reassuring.”  
“Why?” He tilts his head, “think I prefer a more male dominated world?” You shrug and give a nod.  
“Well, the Vikings-“  
“Allow me to show perhaps why I find gender roles a bit confining.” His form shimmers, and then, Loki is… not Loki. Or rather a not male Loki. The woman across from you is a mirror of him. The same dark hair, green eyes, the same smirk. It’s undeniably him but-  
“Uh.” You blink. “So.” You’re taken by less surprise but more apprehension. “You’re… a woman then? Or…?” Loki’s smile is not hostile but more calm.   
“What an open minded creature you are my dear.” His, her voice is like honey. “I am both. I can be neither. I am what I chose to be so if your concern is how to address me, go with what I appear as. I admit, I hoped to shock you more than this.”  
It’s your turn to scoff. RuPaul’s drag race might not be the best educational material, but it certainly helped open your eyes to certain things. “Not all humans have their heads up their asses.” Is the most articulate thing you can reply to him. He laughs, and taps the book in front of you.

“Alright pet, then let’s see just where your head is. Now, first, let’s start with your letters.”

By the time lunch arrives, you’d found out, not only is Loki a good teacher, he’s a methodical one. Each letter he has you write next to it’s earth counterpart, and you write the proper way to pronounce it. You’re on your third page of (slow) translations to the children’s book he was having you read when Lys arrives with lunch. She looks between you nervously as she sets down the tray asking if you needed anything. When you say you don’t she looks to Loki just a bit longer before leaving.

One can’t help but wonder.  
“Lys is a uh, handmaiden right? Unable to get married until… her lady does?”   
“That is correct.” The lunch is smoked fish with a kind of cream on sourdough bread. Some pickled veggies on the side for added flavor. The drink? More alcohol of course. You’re half convinced Asgardians are all addicted to it. And have a need to kill their livers.  
“So, how does that work? I mean, she says she’s my handmaiden but uh, I’m not one to get married anytime soon.” Loki looks at you, brow raised.  
“You’re concerned Lys will be unable to find a husband so long as she is in your service?” You nod, not sure how to ask Loki to just get you like, a maid or something. The whole handmaiden thing is a bit much. Sensing your concern he sets his slice of bread and fish down.  
“Lys, under normal circumstances, would be in a position of being unable to indeed find herself a husband. However, given both your temporary stay, and Lys herself, there is no issue.”  
“Lys.. doesn’t want to get married?”  
Loki grins. “Oh she does want to marry dearest one, but not to one you might think.”

You blink, not understanding until he winks at you, taking a bit of the food.  
“Oh my god.”   
He laughs with a full mouth.   
“She’s _gay_.” Loki is absolutely cackling, hand over is mouth as he tries to chew and swallow. “She’s gay so she doesn’t want a husband at all oh my god I’m a fucking moron.”  
“To be fair dearest,” he clears his throat, “Lys comes from a high family among the nobility. As is, seeking marriage with one of the same gender is not forbidden, but it is frowned upon. She’s expected to ‘get over her infatuation’ and find a husband to carry on her family legacy.”  
You eyeball Loki’s smile. “So she’s sent her to find a man… only she’s not looking at men at all.”   
Loki nods. “Just why I assigned her to you.”  
You reel back. “You’re trying to set us up?”  
“Does that bother you?” It’s vastly rude and manipulative, and while Lys is nice she’s not the type to butter your biscuit.   
“No but.. yes? I mean, I’m not adverse but she’s-“ Loki snorts, taking another bite of food while you fumble over your words. “She’s not my type.”  
“She also has a lover, so that would have complicated things.” You resist the urge to throw your food at him.   
“You ass!”  
“Careful darling, I am still King.” His smile is back, that one that screams danger.   
“I can’t even keep up with you.” You slouch in your chair and begin to eat.  
“Few do pet, few do.” He replies, licking up a stray bit of cream from his finger.

 

After lunch, Loki spends a few more hours with you, assigning you to study the alphabet and have the vowels memorized by tomorrow. There might be five, but each one has special marks to denote how they sound and they only go in certain places and- well. It’s complicated. But he’s professional oddly enough, teasing only here and there, calmly answering your questions and offering advice on your writing. The lesson’s end is followed with a request to join him for dinner. 

Fandral sits as close to you as possible when you arrive, and you resist stabbing his hand with the fork. Even after that morning, the man refuses to give up, serving your food, filling your cup with more alcohol, and generally trying to get more than one word answers from you. Loki’s absences at dinner is felt, as you wish he was there, so maybe he might say something. Even he would be able to tell how uncomfortable you were.   
Others at the table laugh at his attempts to charm you, saying how he is a good man, he’ll show you a nice time, just give him one night, you can’t regret it. None of them care how you lean away from his touch, how your grimace worsens each time he moves to touch you. You’re stuck rushing your meal, resisting the urge to scream and run away with how aggressive he gets, touching you so casually on your arms, attempting to grab your hands.

You lose it when he touches the braid of your hair; standing abruptly and leaving to your rooms, Lys is left to make excuses on your behalf while the men at the table joke how Fandral has scared you off, the blushing maiden you are. They couldn’t have been more wrong. Fandral was touching you without asking, violating your space, ignoring your protests-he made your skin crawl. 

You rip off the dress, tear off the shoes and shift when you reach your bedroom. You storm around, furious, disgusted, ashamed. They were men, and they didn’t even care how you said no, how you wanted to be left alone. They saw you as less than- You’re in nothing but a brassiere and panties when your door slams open, a casually dressed Loki in the doorway.  
You scream and he gapes at you, unmoving until common sense kicks in as you grab your bedsheet in a poor attempt to cover yourself. He removes himself, slamming the door behind him. A beat passes before you hear his voice.  
“I apologize, I should have announced my arrival. Please join me in your parlor when you are decent.” The click of his boots signal he’s moved from your doorway, and lacking the energy to dress, you slip on a robe and peek out. Loki sits on the couch, hands folded, resting his chin on them. Pensive, you think, he looks pensive while he waits for you. Slowly, you walk out, joining him, clutching the rove tightly shut. When you sit across from him, he looks up, green eyes flickering darkly with an air of danger.   
“Lys told me of what happened. I apologize. Fandral will be spoken to.” You look at the floor.

“I also apologize form not being there at dinner. I was busy with matters of state, yet I requested you there only to leave you wanting.” Your silence is pointed, and he sighs. “It is not often that I am in a position where I am the offending party in such a manner, and even rarer that I apologize.”  
“Well consider this practice then.” You hiss. “He just- he just wouldn’t stop touching me. He kept trying to get me involved with him and the men kept saying I should just accept his advances and-“  
“And they made the insinuation that you should be flattered at the attentions?” Loki’s bland distaste is evident in his tone. “Oh pet, you’re not the first to be subjected to this, nor, unfortunately, do I expect you to be the last. Come here.” You opens his arms at you. “Pet-“  
“I’m not your pet. I’m not your anything!” You stand, wishing to just be left alone. His hand is there in a second, gripping your arm.  
“No, you’re not, it is just an endearment. Now stop being so dramatic and talk with me.” He pulls you down into the couch with him, and you curl into a ball. 

“Will you cease your emotional outburst?” You don’t dignify him with an answer.   
“As you will then. Now, I will take care to see the Fandral knows to cease his badgering of you. Aside from your dismissal of him, you are my guest, a guest of Asgard, and his treatment of you reflects poorly on us.” He eyes you, and you pointedly ignore him and his stare.

“I intended to take what is mine tonight but, I think it best that I refrain. I have no desire to have your time in my hands marked by a time victim to his.” Loki stands and makes his way to the door and you keep looking away from him, away from the man who’s held you captive for your own safety.  
“Nothing to say?”

You look at him, eyes hard and cold.   
“Good night your majesty.” It burns you, but what makes your burn of rage worse is his smile.  
“Sleep well pet, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The door clicks shut, and you scream into a pillow at your own helplessness.


	5. Wrists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be careful what you wish for.

The days begin to blur together.  
You had almost gotten into a routine down- almost, if you didn’t wake at odd hours in fits of deep sorrow, bawling your eyes out each time the gold of Asgard came into your vision. How lucky the Asgardians said to you, to see Asgard. To be living in the palace as the king’s guest. How lucky to have such free time, such fine dresses, such delicious food; Lucky, lucky, lucky- the word cut into your skin. It was carved into your ears and you had to smile each time they told you how they envied you, how they wished to be you. But they were blind to the pain, the agony their words caused.   
You were lost, adrift on a world that wasn’t your own. 

How could you tell them that the birds sounded strange, their songs carrying too long, too shrill? How did you explain how the sky was just a bit too bright, the air too heavy, it weighed you down under it’s bright oppressive air. You didn’t know how to explain you disliked the dresses, the finery, the ornamentation. It was too much, too expensive in your eyes, too frivolous. How could you tell them the food they loved tasted vile- like dust and ash at worst, alien and unsettling in it’s eerie familiar appearances but confusing and disturbing in the contradictions of taste and texture. How did you admit your shame to have nothing to do in your spare time? You couldn’t read their language, knew no fine feminine skills like silk embroidery, baking, sewing, singing- you were a modern woman who worked, you had earth skills most women had. You could cook decent food but nothing spectacular, you could maybe patch a hole in some pants but not make them, you didn’t sing, play any instrument; video games didn’t count. You knew social media and pop culture but that was nothing here.   
Asgard was an alien world, and no one seemed to understand how alone it made you.

No one, save for the man who looked at you with a strange empathetic patience when he tried to teach you Asgardian. No one except a man who made small yet charming references to your world’s cultures. Who joked for his own failure to become King there, who allowed you your times of solitude and silence, who did not mock your sudden bouts of shame and tears as your emotions crashed over you.  
He was the one who you’d never have expected him to be offering you comfort yet, there he was, smiling and flirting with you to take your mind from the dark thoughts as the growing inevitability that you’d never go home became more and more pronounced. 

Thor had come and gone, letters from Stark and others offering small encouragements and comforting offers of rescue should Loki do you harm. Gifts of the comforts you craved. Coffee beans, chocolates, your favorite books, music and movies on a small solar powered laptop courtesy of Stark, a few trinkets and things. Thor had apparently taken the time to get you pants because ‘I am aware many Midgardian women prefer them’. He was kind, and as Loki had explained, you wearing your own garments would be seen with a bit of odd looks but accepted, but nothing compared to the gossip that would spread if you’d had them made for you on Asgard. Some things just simply were not done.  
He’d told you you could of course, ask him to have them made, it would just cost you your fingers.  
You’d scowled at him and closed your hands to fists out of spite at the suggestion. He’d laughed. 

Still, as the days progressed, Loki never had taken anything from you since that night he’d walked in on your emotional break down. He never touched you other than the casual touches of his hand on your shoulder when teaching you, and then it was purely professional, nothing seductive or anything. Yet oddly, you found you somewhat wanted him to ask for something, to do as he’d set out to. 

Maybe it was all the pent up energy you had, maybe it was the sense of lacking direction and purpose. Hell, maybe it was just the craving for attention outside of your lessons but you wanted Loki to look at you like he had when you’d arrived. Like he wanted you. So that was how, despite all your depressive feelings, you dressed in a backless emerald gown, gold beading decorating the neckline and cuffs of the long open draping sleeves to look like falling leaves, held only on by bangles at your wrists. It was an evening gown made for feasts of purpose, and tonight seemed a purpose enough. Some warriors had come back from Vanaheim victorious after dealing with raiders and a team of scouts had finished a mission on the Dark World- Stvart or something. 

You dressed in a gown that was part of what you called ‘Loki’s collection’, the set he’d initially given you as needed for your stay on Asgard, which of course, garbed you in his colors. Lys had told you that it was a provocative dress, one someone might wear if they wanted to catch someone’s eye. Few women bared so much skin, and at such an intimate location like the back, and those that did tended to be broadcasting that they desired companionship for the night.  
You just told Lys it was frankly, modest by most earth standards.

Modesty however, was thrown out the door at the feast when several men openly began to look your way.  
Loki included.  
“You look like a dream (y/n).” He said as you entered the room, eyes smoldering as the raked over your body in obvious desire.   
“Enjoy it now, because dreams end eventually.” You shot back, making him smile with a certain hunger you knew well enough on a male’s face. It made something in your well with pride to know he still felt something other for you other than pity.   
“And some dreams can be made to reality.” He lifted his cup in your direction and spoke to the hall at large, making red spread across your face and chest.  
“The lady (y/n) graces us tonight with her presence in honor of our efforts to reunite and restore the nine realms. Midgard sees us, and we see her.” Men gave a cheer and lifted their cups as well, many drinking while others eyed you much the same way Loki had. The dress really was doing a number for your ego.

“Well that was a bit much.” You muttered, sitting down in the seat that was next to Loki. Technically, it was place that was reserved for Thor, but as both guest of the royal house, a ward of the state, and by the way of legitimizing your prolonged stay for the populace, the representative of Midgard, you were to the King’s right.  
No one questioned it but you, mostly as Loki typically teased you and would place things you’d never eaten on your plate saying to try it. What irked you most about that was out of all the foods, the ones he’d give you always ended up being ones you liked and could enjoy.   
He was smug, the asshole.

The night crept onward and you made a point to ignore Loki for most of it, and occasionally from the corner of your eye would catch him grousing in your direction. Or rather, the direction of the man you were speaking to. You listened to their stories of valor and conquest, (boring as they were), and smiled politely when they offered you drink or food. You would decline each time, quite full and not wanting to die of alcohol poisoning or.. having a wake up somewhere you’d rather not be. However, not all things last, and as the party died down, (as in, most people had found their hook up for the night), you figured it would be fine to call it a day. As soon as you stood up however, you noticed Lys in the corner with another woman and smiling. You grinned, thinking to let her know what you were doing when a hand caught your wrist.  
“Lady (y/n).” It was a rather portly warrior, who’s name was as forgettable as his self proclaimed exploits. “Come, I noticed you took a fancy to that mild wine and I remembered I have one of higher vintage at my holdings-“ It was the worst come on you’d ever experienced. Your grimace must have been obvious, as a gentle presence was at your side.   
“I’m afraid Lord Harin, the lady has a prior engagement with myself this evening.” Loki’s voice ghosted over the back of your neck.   
“That is, if she wants to go with me of course.” You looked at him and wanted to scream. His smile was playfully cunning. He wanted to cut a deal now, of all times, about something like this. He leaned in a whisper for you alone.  
“Your wrists.” You glared at him and held out your free hand.  
“It would please me greatly your majesty.” Lord Harin let go immediately as if burned. His face red he stammered out an apology to Loki and you wanted to slap them both. This wasn’t a booty call. And if it was, you wouldn’t be so forward to practically announce it. Loki’s hand engulfed your own and he brought it to his lips as if he might kiss it. Yet it wasn’t you hand that his lips found, but the inside of your wrist. It was intimate, a faint caress of skin to skin that made your breath catch as his eyes glittered in the golden light of lamps and torches. You could taste the last thing you ate so clearly, a fruit of some kind he’d snuck on your plate that was tart. You wondered if he liked the flavor like you did and-

Blushing you broke eye contact, walking to Loki’s side and leaving the remnants of the revelers as the King of Asgard guided you back to your rooms.   
The man was a menace. By morning you’d hear no end of rumors. 

“That was ah, what’s the word, uncouth of a King _Loki_.” The man’s grin was wide, teeth shown like they might have been wolf’s fangs. You had let him enter your parlor, and you regretted it. Without Lys, inviting a man, even if he was the king, alone, late a night, to your rooms was practically a scream of social activities that were best kept secret. If you and he had a secret that is.   
“Uncouth- now where are you learning such courtly speech and manners? Perhaps you have a good teacher in linguistics. Tell me, are you enjoying your lessons?” Your scowl made him smile more as he sat down, patting the spot on the sofa next to you. “I apologize for not giving you more of my hours, but it would be considered rather forward to begin the first stage of courting so quickly.”  
“I- courting? Is that what they call this... devil deal these days? Besides, isn’t that a bit out of the door after that little display?” The hiss and anger was heavy in the air and Loki tilted his head as if bored.  
“It’s common enough that two consenting adults will partake in carnal pleasures after a feast. However, doing such things every day, in private rooms? That would be a bit more lecherous. Spending the hours as I do teaching you is seen as rather intimate as is, but seeking you outside of them would send the image that I enjoyed and wanted your company beyond common decorum. This is allowed as it’s just what is done after feasts. Public everyday pursuit? We have yet to reach that part of our relationships yet.”

His hand held out, you lay your hand it in, secretly enjoying the way he rubbing his thumb over your wrist. His cool touch soothed the heat in your veins from more that one reason.   
“We don’t have a relationship. We have an agreement.”  
“Marriages on Asgard have been made for less.” The action Loki takes are never predictable and the wet swipe of tongue on the pulsing vein makes you jump. The soothing cool and wet sensation was alarming with no warning, and as you tried to jump back, Loki’s free hand grabbed your arm, holding you in place.  
“You are so reactive- and I love how you mind works.” He said before kissing the spot he’d licked. “You fret over your appearances so much. You needn’t worry. More, they all know I am the master of manipulation between us.”

He ghosted each word over your skin, leaning into your body and forcing you feel his body’s heat and overwhelming presence as his face slowly rose from your captive wrist up your arm.   
“Though, you were divine as you joined us in this dress. Such poise, such radiance and seduction. All you were missing were braids in your hair and golden blush on your skin. I would have happily had given you a spot on my throne.” You tensed at his flattery, blushing as he pecked your arm with kisses in a random assortment.  
“In your lap most likely.”  
His face pulled away, and your heart catches as you see his blown pupils, the green almost drowned in black. His heated look sends a warm pulse between your legs and you can swear he knows.  
“Pet, you can see very well why it would have ended badly for both of us if you’d sat that delicious behind on me.” You’re stupid, taking his crass bait and looking down between his legs. There, obvious and impossible to miss, is the straining erection, pressed too firm against the leathers of his trousers, defined outline making that tiny pulse in your own sex become a steady beat as you felt your pussy practically gush with arousal.

The man is very well endowed.

“I-“  
“Do not doubt the effect you have on me.”  
Pulled back, he stared at you as if determined to have you subjected to his will, his blatant lust. “I want to fuck you (y/n), and resisting the urge to seduce you further has been a nightmare. Now, do stop struggling, and let me make you _writhe.”_  
His kiss on your wrist is harsh, a strong suction that brings blood to the surface and makes you gasp and whimper as he tugged you body flush to his own with your arms. He’s a monster you told yourself, feeling your body brush his own, feeling his cock rub you though your clothes. You hate that he’s handsome, hate that he’s so forward and blunt, hate that he so easily can ignore you and make you miss his attentions even if this is what his true attentions are.

Lust.

You gasped as he lifted your arm in the air, kissing lightly from just below your shoulder to the pulse under your wrist. His fingers held you firm and you struggled not to move while he loomed over you, pinning you down under him on the couch, not touching you with his body any longer, but rather trapped you, preventing any escape of him taking what you have surrender to him.  
You gasped each time he grazed teeth over your skin, pressing yet not enough to leave an indentation or mark. He was mindful, pushing but not going further. One arm ravished, his fingers let go, slowly drawing from wrist to the space below your shoulder before he crossed to the over limb, purring out your name as you turn and inadvertently give him more access.   
“I wonder sweet maid, if those men had offered, would you have gone with them?” His lips ghost over skin, each sentence ending with a suckling over your veins. “Would you have warmed their beds, gasped and moaned their names-“  
“No.” Your answer, the admission, is a whisper and you feel his grin pressed to the crook of your arm.

His reward to you is a hard suck there, drawing blood to the surface so quickly it almost hurts. Your whimper of discomfort made him stop, tongue soothing, rubbing into the tender spot.   
“You have no idea how much it pleases me to know you are no wanton minx.” His kiss in soft to your wrist, and he paused in his actions to look you in the eye.   
“I want to be the only one who gets the pleasure of seeing you come undone.” You moan, loud, and obscene as his kiss is hard and insistent to your wrist, and you feel the press of teeth and the pinch of flesh. 

Letting you with a wet pop, you looked at your wrist to feel the heat of shame and lust as you see the mark he’d left. None on your arms, but one on your wrist, you wouldn’t be able to deny it. There would be no way to hide it either.

“You ass-“ You pushed at him, trying to get him off of you. However you froze in place as Loki groaned, your leg brushing his firm erection.  
“Careful pet.” He hissed. “Use your words, for if you use your body I might be tempted to take more than what’s on the menu.”  
You looked away from him, hating the heat in your face, the lingering tingle in your arms from his touch, the pulse on your wrist from his mark. “Please get off of me.”  
“No.”

Loki grinned wickedly and you kept avoiding his gaze, knowing it would make your want more than what he’s done. You hate it. He’s dangerous, he wants sex, this is a game to him and he’s handsome and terrible and fuck you miss physical contact and god his cock is that big you wonder if-

“Look at me pet.” His command was powerful and made the heat between your thighs deepen. Your head turned and your lips parted as you saw him.  
Loki is the visage of lust. Eyes dark, lips puffy and red, heat emanating from his skin with a look of carnal desire so raw you can taste it in the air.  
“See me as I am, and that to me, you are a woman, and I a man.” He leaned down, and you could smell the sweet wine on his lips. “I will make you forget about that planet you love, and have you love me instead.” There is a darkness in him, primal, and it draws you in. “I will become your king, and you will kneel-“

It’s the cold water you needed. The slap echoes in the room and Loki’s head twisted from the force of it, your own palm was throbbing from the pain of impact.

As he got up, he smiled, as if he hadn’t just admitted he planned to seduce you and keep you here like some kind of prize to be won. A consolation for his failure to conquer earth.   
“You are not my king.” You said, trembling from your place on the couch. Loki, to his credit, looked shameless.  
“Yet you moaned for me and from my touch just as sweetly as any other.” Green eyes glowed in mirth as he stepped back from you. “Tomorrow, I plan to go on an outing to the city. You might be able to join me if you desire it.”  
“Get out.” You tried to sound angry, threatening, but it came out breathy, a gasp for air as you tried to fight back control from how he’d almost stolen it from you.

“Sleep well (y/n).” He winked, going to the door of your parlor to show himself out.  
“If anyone asks, feel free to say we did not partake of carnal pleasures, but know this, if I am asked I will tell them I made you writhe for me.” His hand went to his hip, making you once more catch sight of his straining erection.  
“And made that quim of yours wet with desire, even if you’d deny- I could smell it, you are so wanting.”  
You gape, lips open as he laughed, leaving you.

That night you dream of Loki holding you down, kissing you- and you find you crave to know what it would be like to have his lips on more than just your arms and wrists.


	6. Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader gets more than they can handle, and Loki is a dick.

The next morning you had a decision to make. You could ignore the overt invite Loki had given you to go out to the city with him, see him with his people for the first time in public, or, you could wallow in the library trying to study more of the words that plagued you with their complexity when conjugated. Lys was busy selecting your dress when you mulled over the choices. Giving in to Loki would likely set you up to ask him for something, and after last night, you were terrified to give him another part of you. Staying however in the palace would result in yet another day of drool dull repetition and the risk of running to more dudes who seemed to think that being human, you were salivating at the prospect of getting that Asgardian dick.

Plus, Loki alone would have full freedom to concoct whatever lie he wanted bout your deeds with him behind closed doors. Not that people already didn’t assume he was trying to get some- his overt flirting at meals was pretty much normal now.

“Lys.” You made a decision. Better to test the devil then let him do was he pleased unsupervised.  
“What’s a good outfit for going into the city?” The handmaiden perked up, and a tiny smile formed on her face.  
“Well, do you plan to ride or take a carriage?”  
“They have carriages- you know what never mind. Just- what’s comfortable but also would tell a guy ‘You wish you could fuck me but haha jokes on you I won’t?’” Lys’s entire face dropped.  
“Miss, why do you insist on antagonizing him?”  
“I dunno who you’re talking about Lys.” You brushed your hair, smirking. Loki wants to make you wilt and cave into him? Fine. But you can play dirty too.  
“Please, it’s very obvious he- well he desires you. Enticing him, teasing him- I’ve lived in the palace most of my formative years and his highness if pushed will only become more aggressive.”  
“He tries anything I’ll-“ You frowned. There isn’t much you can do but- “I’ll tell Thor.” Lys’s blank look is followed with a very bland reply.  
“You’d… tell Prince Thor…”  
“That Loki was being pushy and aggressive, yeah.” Lys is dumbfounded. She’s served no doubt dozens of women before but never a human woman like you.  
“I- well. Hm.” She considered it and nodded. Thor might not a lot of power, but, Loki would likely yield if Thor got on him about it. Appearances and all.  
“I think you have some lovely blue pants- the ah, jeans yes? The snug ones. Oh! And we can pair it with this silk top and some jewelry- how do you feel about doing your hair and make up?”

Bless Lys, the woman might be a lesbian but she understood that sometimes, to drive home a point, you had to be willing to dig a few holes.

A short while later, you’re dressed in a fine silk top laced with a soft gold ombre at the ends of the long sleeves, gold armbands glitter as they make the cuffs billow out. The necklace is low hanging, resting at the top of your breasts to draw the eyes, and your makeup is light and natural. The only dark thing the eyeliner and ruby red lipstick.  
You’re out for blood, and you want Loki to know it.  
Lys escorted you down to the stables, and, consequently, to Loki and his small royal entourage.  
“(y/n),” He smiled when he saw you, and you didn’t miss how his eyes ran up and down your body. “Will you be joining us?” The men who you assumed to be his guards looked uneasy at their king. You couldn’t blame them, and he was all but shouting from the rooftops his intentions to fuck you while his people mostly just pitied you and thought you a bit odd being human and all that. 

Sadly, for the guards, you were out for Loki’s blood.  
“Perhaps,” you answered, smiling as your arms folded, “what will it cost me Loki?” You said his name with none of the titles and his lips were licked in what you hoped was a signal that he was pleased. Or, that he understood. You were ready to start playing the game he’d begun that night with the bargain.  
Walking over, he lifted a lock of your hair, rubbing it between his fingers.  
“Shoulders.” His voice a whisper you nod. It’s a sensual spot, you know, but you expected something along the lines. 

“Perfect.” His hands ghost to your arms, and there, he pauses.  
“I do hope you’re up for a bit of a walk. It’s a few hundred ah, kilometers just to get the main city market.” That- you thought he’d provide transport, not-  
A trick. You could go into the city any time sure, but going with him as part of his retinue was a favor.  
As, apparently, would be transport. Fuck. As the realization dawned on your face, the sadistic smile grew on his.  
“Or would you prefer to ride?”  
“You know damn well what I’d prefer.” You snapped, and Loki’s green eyes were too full of mirth at your sudden fury of being tricked.  
“You could ride with me.” His horse, the white mare nickered as he went to her, casually mounting her and moving back. He fully wanted you to sit- hell no. That was just overtly obscene. But- this was Loki. Obscene was exactly what he wanted.

Walking over to him you crooked a finger at him and when he leaned down you hissed.  
“What do you want for a horse?”  
He eyed you again before he answered, “Your back.” You think on it. The back is... large, and some consider the butt-  
“Length of my spine.” Loki’s head tilts and then bobs, his way of agreeing.

“Elin.” A tall man, dressed in simple brown leathers stands abruptly. “Get my lady (y/n) Sleipnir for a ride into the city.” You freeze. You may not be a myth buff but even you know the story.  
“No.” You gasp.  
“Oh yes.”  
“Isn’t he supposed to have like, six legs?” This is NOT what you bargained for, that asshole! You asked for a horse, not his son!  
“He has eight actually.”  
“Isn’t he your son?” It was weird enough to be flirted with by a would be villain let alone apparently a god king with an overly inflated ego!  
“No, but I do take care of him.” Okay, NOW you had more questions but what the hell a six legged horse?  
“Wait, wasn’t he Odin’s horse?”  
“Odin is dead.” The sudden somber tone has lost all playfulness. “Sleipnir is the fastest stead in the nine realms, and a skilled warhorse. If we should be attacked, he will navigate you safely back to the castle. You may either ride Sleipnir or-“ He pat the saddle in front of him.  
“You ride with me.”

You wait for the six legged horse. 

A hour later, you’re riding a horse famous in myth, eight legs and all, and hate the fact that you honestly couldn’t help how much you already loved him. The stallion was large, far larger than any horse you’d ever seen on earth, but he was also so damn docile. When he approached you, you expected him to be all bluster and snorting and war-horsy. Not a big softy who nickered at your pocket for the apple you’d been told to give him. (Ironically, given to you by Loki for free- who said it would win you Selpnir’s favor). The horse was also very intuitive, slowing down when you wanted to pause and look to the scenery, as if knowing you wanted to take a bit of time. What was odd in a way was that each time you slowed, Loki slowed down as well, never saying anything, but patiently waiting for you to resume your riding position next to him, (which was customary for guests and for protection, a fact the guards had told you, and had nothing to do with Loki’s insistence). It was almost relaxing, being able to see the city from horseback, even if after a while you were getting a bit well- 

“Saddle sore?” Loki’s voice cut through the silence of the entourage, a small break by a fountain near the city’s main market square.  
“What?” You leaned away from him as he approached, a smirk at the corner of his lips.  
“You ride- which isn’t entirely difficult, but you ride poorly, untrained. I image your body is now protesting slightly. Hence, saddle sore.” His eyes roved your body, pausing between your thighs.  
You blushed, flinching at the fact he’s right. Even sitting on the lip of the fountain made your lower bits throb in mild discomfort.  
“I’ll get through it.” You snorted, which is true. You’ve had worse cramps before.  
Loki’s sigh is heavy and you can tell he’s planning something with how he walked over.  
“You’ll regret it if you maintain your current way of riding.”  
“I’m not riding with you.” You quickly snapped, Loki’s eyes narrowing in annoyance.  
“That wasn’t my proposition pet.” That name made you only raise your hackles more, scowling as he offered you a small vial.  
“It’s a small healing agent that also will numb your discomfort and prevent further injury and soreness.” Your gaping must have been rewarding as Loki winked in pride.  
“The only soreness between your legs should be coming from me. Preferably, after a much more intimate ride.”

Heat filled your face as your brain spat out the first wicked retort you could think of.  
“If you fucked me till I was this sore, you’d not have me very long.” 

Both of you are left off guard and very quickly the guards nearby avert their attention. Loki rebounds soon enough a dark twinkle in his green eyes. “Then tell me how far I could go dearest one.” It’s a challenge; you grab onto the way he phrases it, why he says it. How far will you go speaking so sexually to him in public, how far can he push this back and forth game you’ve now begun to play with him?  
You chose to walk this path and by god you’ll go down fighting.  
You stood, walking to him and closed the space between the both of you. Your hands brushed his arms, and you could see his pupil dilated. The simple fact you willingly touched him is a vast jump from prior occasions. He leaned into your head so you could whisper into his ear.  
“I don’t mind a little punishment, but being mean hardly makes me want what you have to give.” Loki’s own voice ghosted into your ear.  
“How far could I go?” Pulling back, you couldn’t whisper. You missed the chance but your eyes meet his refusing to back down.  
“Make it throb, a dull ache, something to remind me how it felt, how you felt inside me- That’s how far you could go. Anything more and you’d have to beg me for it.” Your hand reached up, a single finger traced up his neck. The sight of his eyes fluttering shut in satisfaction to your touch maked the shame and embarrassment of this spectacle worth it.

“Too bad you’ll never get me.” You pulled away, drinking the little vial and felt the magic work instantly. Selpnir whinnied when you went back to him begging for soft brushes of his mane.

You smiled as if you haven’t just said the things you did. Loki however, was left to eyefuck you much to the awkwardness of his guards. The rest of the day was spent in relative peace, save for the fact Loki sported an erection he hid very poorly. And his tone shifted to seductive each time spoke to you. 

Back at the palace, you told Lys of the encounter and-  
“Oh by the stars- You’ve signed your death girl!”  
“He started it.”  
“Oh honey, I’m sure he did, but you just went and played right into his game and- oh girl he’ll be making a visit tonight, and if you don’t think he’ll try to worm his way into finding some sort of relief you’ve got another thing coming.”  
The laugh is bitter yet mild. “So Loki will come to my rooms and he’ll also cum to me? Is that it?” Lys realized her choice of words and groaned.  
“Perhaps I was mistaken. You are suited for his majesty.”  
“Uh- what?”  
“This is just the sort of mischief he adores. To think, you were so bitter and depressed now look at you!” You blink, looking to the handmaiden who’s grinning. “You might still have that sadness, but I’d dare to say you’ve found your niche! He-“  
You remember his words in that brief moment of passion. The look on his face, the timber of his voice. Loki had told you exactly how he saw you in that moment.  
“I’m not a prize to be won Lys. I’m not an object. I’m not something he gets to control.” Your cold words stop her in her tracks, and her concern is evident.  
“I never- what makes you say such a thing?”  
“Loki-“  
“His majesty-“  
“For fuck’s sake Lys, I nearly had sex with him last night and he told me he wants to make me forget my home- to- to- be my king? He wants a fucking trophy Lys. Not a lover, he wants a fucking obedient little Midgardian whore to tout because he couldn’t get to rule my world!” 

“And what a pretty trophy you would be, if I truly felt such desires.” Loki’s voice filled the parlor, and you looked for it’s source. And there, dressed in what you can only describe as casual lounge wear was the man or the hour himself, looking bored and mildly annoyed if anything.  
“Your majesty I-“ Lys was wide eyed and frantic, panic easy to see before Loki lifted his hand and motioned her away. You flinched. You are still technically, Loki’s guest. And his words about everything you have being from his good will came crushing back. He could take it away, could just lock you up. The door locked behind your handmaiden, leaving you alone with the mercurial king. 

“Do you really think I want to own you- like an object?” You swallowed down your fear, eyes seeing the dark threat, the man who was a God before you daring you to question him once more. He wanted a reason to punish you.  
A tiny part of you wanted him to.

“You’ve given me no reason to think otherwise.”  
Loki’s head tilted back, blinking slowly has he thought about it. Truly, he had hardly properly begun a more traditional form of courtship, but he was technically, navigating the uncharted. You were a modern woman, with different social and cultural customs that did not adhere to Asgardian ones. Some, even drastically different- such as the fact if he presented you with a lock of his hair he doubted the meaning would be significant to you so much as ‘creepy’ or ‘weird’.  
Not to mention, he had hardly reached such a level with you yet. He knew he wanted the physical. Emotional- sentiment was... not even a part of the equation. Which he had to admit, even to himself, was what you desired and wanted before you’d even entertain the thought of warming his bed.

To have you, he had to prove he wanted something other than a notch on his bed post, a conquest that he’d cast aside. It was a lot of effort but-

“If I wanted a trophy, I would tell you how I find myself enamored with you, slowly allowing you to think I loved you. I would trick you to loving me, all of me.”  
“Isn’t that what you said?” You shied away from him as he stood, his steps heavy and purposeful towards you. “You would have me love you?”  
“Carnal love.” His grasp was lightning quick, your wrist in his arm as he kissed the thundering pulse there. “Ravished, writhing, blissful carnal love. You would love not me, but the man I am. A god of body even if not of my mind. You would love the pleasure, yearn for it, beg for it.” His kisses traced up your arms as you squirmed against him, pushing at him, unable to voice that you wanted him to let go, to stop.

That tiny part of you from the night previous didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want to have it end. You were curious to how far he’d go.  
How he planned to ravish you without being able to touch more than what he already owned.  
“I want your love-lust. I want your desire to be consuming, so when I return you to your home, you will yearn for me, want me, miss me.” You gasped as his other hand slipped under the collar of the silk top, brushing over your shoulder.  
Loki’s darkness consumed his face, a man marred by a beast- a monster filled with lust.  
“I want you on your knees in supplication; your body the temple, your pleasure the sacrifice, your lust, your adore- that to be the altar where you surrender yourself to me.” His hand brought yours to his hair, treading your fingers through his dark locks and left his hand to slip under the silk to the other shoulder.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice was a whisper. A command. A plea. Loki looked at you with intent and your breath caught in your throat.  
He would push if you let him.  
“I will not kneel.” You answer him, pulling his hair as you challenge him. “You won’t ever be my King.”  
The reply stole your breath and made a part of your freeze in equal parts terror and desire.  
“You didn’t tell me to stop.”

The tear of silk echoed loudly in the parlor, falling onto cool marble as Loki ran his hands greedily over your bare skin. Green black eyes drank in the sight of your skin, of your breasts half hidden behind the lace bralette. Could he see the way your nipples pebbled to the cool air, to your fear laced arousal? You should have hated it, his domineering, his force, his lack of decorum and understanding.  
Yet it made you bolder, made you rise to challenge him in this game he wanted to play- a game you had never played with a man before.  
“I am not a coward Loki.” You pulled on his hair, and to your shock, his moan followed. Heat in his eyes his grin spoke of promises, of cruel euphoria.

“Lay on the chaise, I’m going to take what’s mine.” He let you go, licking his lips as he eyed you, so wanting so full of intent. “I am going to make you cry out for me by the end of this night.”  
You swallowed the fear, put extra sway into your hips. You wondered, debated your actions, if it would push too far, too much, would test his control.  
“Let me get comfortable first.”

You pulled down the jeans before you laid back, feeling him watching you devouring you with his eyes. All but bare, you tested this game of his, played it as you only knew how to- antagonize him. Taunt him, challenge him, test his resolve. It was all about risk, control and ultimately, who would surrender first. 

“I knew you would not disappoint me (y/n).” He said, following you like a hound, hovering as you laid back on the chaise, thrusting up your chest just so, coyly laying back, relaxing into the cushions and smiling up at him trying to put on the most seductive look you could muster.  
“You have that fire in you- The impudence, the sass, the will. You showed me sparks that first day, now I can see them-“ He loomed over you, the heat of him washing over your bare skin.  
“I can see the fires starting to build inside you.” You arched up, stretching, teasing him with the expanse of bare skin, of your body’s movements and his inability to touch.  
“Roll over my wildfire. Tonight, I will show you how I shall worship upon the temple that is this body.”

You obeyed, rolling onto your belly, sighing as you shifted, getting comfortable. You knew he would make it sensual, he would whisper things into your ears, pry as much pleasure as he could from you-  
And you felt excited at the prospect of it. 

You hated him- but why not use him, why not play his game, ply his favor by providing little concessions such as the strip. He would have wanted your bare skin anyway, now, he would be tormented by the sight of places he cannot have. This is a war between the pair of you, and you made the choice. Fight him on your terms. Meet him on this battlefield, challenge and accept this fight. Asgard already thinks you bed him. Take control of your destiny, make him give you everything you want.

“Will you give me a message?” You asked him. The image is a silly one. A god, plying your muscles like some hands for hire, like a common person might-

The chill of his touch sent a gasp leaving you.  
“You greedy thing.” His low rumble came from behind you, and you shook as his hands slipped over your shoulders, down your sides before resting at the base of your spine. “You ask for more than I might offer.” Your entire body feels heated with terrified desire, an alien fear of pleasure. You want to know what he will do, how far he’ll go, what he would have you feel. But to give in- to let him have what he wants- would be the end of your control, your self righteous freedom of mind. 

“You’re the one who wanted my backside.” You swallowed the saliva in your mouth, imagining the way he might feel, pressing his lips to your own. “I can’t imagine what other purpose you’d have for it.”

Loki’s fingers graze over bare skin, flicking the strap that held up the bralette. “You have no idea what other things I could do to you.”  
You cried out in shock as what felt like ice touched your lower back, wet cold running up the length of your back. But the ice was soft, pliant- A hand came up to rest by your head as he loomed over you and you saw blue skin. Your gasp was punctuated by teeth at your shoulder blades, nipping and kissing the bone under the skin. It was painful and yet not- the cold soothing the heat of the pain, the pain burning with a tenderness after inflicted. Whatever magic Loki was doing, it was a sensation you knew no other might replicate on earth. No human could match. 

His mouth was magic, his entire being was alien, he was a god and you squirmed when his free hand toyed with the strap of fabric that kept your top half modest.  
“Tell me I can take it off. Let me have your flesh unhindered.” His breath was cold against your ear and you groaned. You liked this soothing cold, this strange feeling of power that radiated from a man you couldn’t see behind you.  
“Yes.” You whispered into pillows. “Take it off.” Magic. It was gone. Your skin felt the fabric of the chaise unobstructed, nipples rubbing the rough fabric and making your cunt pulse with awareness to the sensation.  
“Good girl.” He crooned, his kisses on your shoulders placating the heat that rose to your cheeks.  
“Do you want the massage?” You let out a tiny hum of approval and you felt his chuckle, felt his hair teasing the back of your shoulders as he spoke just behind you.  
“Call me your king. For this favor, I want you to call me your King the rest of the night.”  
“You’re not-“  
“Just tonight, only tonight, will I require it behind these closed doors.” You were suddenly aware how scandalous this all was. Almost entire nude, the king of Asgard hovering over you, touching you intimately, and knowing that he wanted sex. He wanted to dominate you, rule your body. Loki, the trickster, wanted to make your crave him.  
And crave him you did.

So you gave in, eyes closed and with a whisper, you called him what you feared.  
“My king.” The title left your mouth with an airy sigh, and you felt his entire body shudder next to you before cool firm hands covered your shoulders. Thumbs pressed into tensed muscle, pushing down to release the tension long built up after weeks of stress and anxiety. Magic worked under you skin, a low coil heat that pooled outward to contrast Loki’s soothing touch. The strength of this alien man wasn’t lost on you. You knew fully well he could break your bones, shatter your spine, kill you with a flick of his wrist-  
And yet those same hands, so dangerous, so deadly, were doing nothing but bringing you a soothing pressure that took away the aches and pains of weeks where you had twisted in on yourself, trying to hold onto the tethers of reality in an attempt to maintain control.

Under his hands, you felt yourself loosing control and for once, you welcomed it.  
Pain melted away, and softly, you swore you could hear him humming a tune you didn’t know. Loki wasn’t touching you with lust in those moments. It was something else. Something that made your mind shake in fear and hope.  
He touched you with the knowledge you trusted him. You shouldn’t, history of this person told you it was a mistake to trust him, and yet there you laid, under him, pliant, willing, revealing yourself in your fragile state and placing yourself in his care. This wasn’t sex. This was something worse he was taking from you. This was something far more dastardly to steal and covet.  
This was trust.

Moaning into the room, you didn’t feel him shift, moving to better have leverage over you. You knew you were slipping, growing complacent, growing intoxicated by his hands and drunk on the feeling of warm magic and cold skin.  
“I’m going to use a bit of oil on your skin darling.” His sonorous voice ghosted behind you, a further drawl into the gentle lull that was this horridly relaxing session.  
“It will help you relax, soften your skin.” A gentle kiss at the bas of your spine had you gasp, lower body clenching with a sudden wave of hot desire.  
“Is that acceptable my wildfire?” You hummed, unable to form a positive reply, yet he under stood all the same. “Tell me if you feel any discomfort of wish for me to cease.” His kisses trailed up the vertebrae, ending at the base of your neck, just where the shoulders began.  
“Your pleasure is mine tonight.”

Warmth running over your skin, liquid that smelled of vanilla and spices. His hands glided over you, the soft wet sounds of him pushing the fluid into you, deep into your pores, into muscle and bone- magic. Loki was more than a man, he was magic, and as you felt your body grow limp and pliant, you moaned for him, and could only muster a single thing to say for how he worked you into a pool of want.  
“My king-“  
Burning hot lust. Hands grasping your hips, fingers digging intpo your flesh as Loki worked your body harder, intent to see you writhe as he said you would. As you did. For him, because of him, you fell into this trap and yet you couldn’t feel regret. You wouldn’t, couldn’t feel more than faint pangs of lust, sparks of desire and arousal. 

 

Not until the God of Mischief opened his mouth and spoke into you ear.  
“Do you know how alluring you look? Spread upon this chaise, almost nude for me? Your skin glistening with the finest oils, pink with pleasure and soft without a single tense muscle? You look every inch the satisfied lover, a venerable goddess of decadence. I would take gold leaf and work it into your skin with magic, have you glitter in both the sun and moonlight. Your lips parted in soft sighs of contentment, your eyelids fluttering in bliss. Your entire being- resplendent.”  
You felt it change then. Gone were soothing hands of firm, gentle worship and comfort. They had been replaced by the hands of a would-be-lover. Touching yet not touching, pressing were the desire formed, where your secret spots begged to be touched. Loki was a master manipulator, and he worked your body as fine an instrument as any.  
“You are so simple in your elegance yet enticing in your difference. So unlike those around you, yet familiar enough to draw them. Do the men even know what you have to offer them? Your fire, your wit, your charm? I watch you study, diligent pupil you are, determined to fight for independence. From me, from this place, from where fate has put you, chained you. Your fire burns under your skin.” Cold lips on your lower back, you gasped for him, spoke his name like a lover might.  
“You defied a God. You defied a King- you are utterly, wickedly, everything a man could desire- What a trickster could want in a lover.”  
He was behind you, his lips next to your ear.  
“I want to fuck you, and feel myself burn in the flames of passion that you try to hide. Say my name little wildfire!” His hands pressed into you, and you cried out for him, a wordless scream as a sudden rush of pleasure raced though you, culminating between your legs as you came, empty and wanting.  
“Say it!”

You arched into him, reaching back and grabbing his hair, pulling, eyes wide as you lost all control under him.  
“LOKI!” 

Your entire body was shaking. You were so tired, so weak, so soft and pliant and lost. How? How had he managed to make you like this? It was just a simple massage. Was it magic? The oils? Or was it just him? Were you so touch starved, so desperate for pleasure you’d find it from such a basic thing as a massage?  
Confused, you went limp, collapsing into the soft pillows and cushions, panting, eye glazed and fluttering, fighting to stay open. Loki’s hands ran over you soothing comforting, his voice further lulling you into complacency.

“Shh, how bright you burn my darling. Hush, just relax- that’s right.” His lips ran over your backside making you mewl weak, helplessly as you wanted to tell him off, that this was nothing, you were not so weak to fall to him, for him.  
“Let yourself relax.” He moved off of you, and you could watch him glide back to your side, kneeing next to you. Blue faintly colored his skin before it faded to the soft pale tone you knew.  
“You surprise me each day (y/n).” His fingers brushed hair from your face, green eyes looking at you with desire and… fondness?

“Sleep, dream. Tomorrow-“ He smiled, yet it lacked that cruel wickedness. “-I do not desire a trophy my little wildfire.” You hated that new nickname. Myth was that he was the god of wildfire- did he know that? Was he trying to insinuate he was your God?  
“I desire you.”

The spot of wetness at the front of his pants, the strained erection he didn’t hide.  
Loki left you on the chaise, falling into an exhausted rest as he went back to his own rooms.

Where, unknown to you, he would find satisfaction by his own hand, eye closed, thinking of the way you cried out his name like a lover might.


	7. Legs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, to understand what you want, you have to lose something first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> steamy start of things at the end

You wished you could attest that something with Loki had changed after the night on the chaise where he’d brought you to orgasm, but Loki hadn’t changed in the slightest. No, you were the one that changed. You blushed easily now, and responded less harshly to his flirtations and you knew he enjoyed it. You also had, with some reluctance, finally admitted a truth you loathed.  
You found Loki attractive.  
Attractive enough that after the night with his hands on your body, you’d caught yourself slipping fingers into your core, pumping them until you trembled and throbbed with unfilled need, only to have his face in your mind to be the thing that sent you over the edge. You pictured it being his hands fucking you, stroking over that spot just inside you that made your toes curl and pussy gush with arousal in an attempt to take something deeper, to encourage something to fill you up and make you cry out for completion. The bastard had managed to make you realize how much you wanted to orgasm at another’s touch- because while he hadn’t even touched your sex, you wanted to know what it would be like now. You wanted to find out just what he could do if he was allowed to touch your most sensitive places. 

Loki had made you want to have sex and that was completely unacceptable. 

It had been several days since what you considered the ‘bad choice’ incident. Lys had found you that morning, and much to your mortification, several staff members had heard you scream out Loki’s name. No one mentioned it, at least not while you were around, however, that did nothing to stop the looks on inquiry from some. The worst you noticed was that men, in general, seemed more interested in you as of late, and you had several lower lords and guards offering to keep you company when Loki was absent.  
You managed to avoid most of them citing your studies with learning Asgardian, and in your attempts to somewhat get more familiar with the cultural gaps between Asgard and earth. It was getting more and more difficult however, as the longer you put off these casual meetings with other men, the weaker and weaker your excuses became. There was only so many books one could read, (or rather, painstakingly translate then read) on Asgardian holidays.  
You also had the issue of Loki’s foreboding words. 

Courting- something that Lys had explained, was something between casual dating and something one did when looking for a possible life partner. In Loki’s case, it leaned more towards the possible life partner scenario, as he was royal and expected to, at some point, wed and produce an heir. Both for Jotunheim and Asgard. Which meant that had he been serious, you couldn’t be in the running for when it came to being an actual candidate. As King, his life was a political chessboard, and as the rightful king of both Jotunheim and Asgard, he was expected to have an heir that shared the heritage of said kingdom. Jotunheim alone would have meant you might have been a serious contender- a half Midgardian heir would possibly be smaller, all but ensuring a ‘runt’ to be sired, but with the resistance to heat, the adaptability and sensitivity of a Midgardian, (as well as the fertility of one), a child of such a union could be a very wise political move, ensuring an heir with abilities coveted and aiding in keeping the heir alive until the time came for them to inherit the crown, (which would mean Loki’s death. Apparently that was their method of succession- patricide).  
Yet, Loki was also King of Asgard, and as a full blooded Jotun, he would need a pure Asgardian wife to not only ensure the kingdom would be ruled by one of it’s own, but make good on the tentative peace between both Asgard and Jotunheim. In sum, Loki’s statement of courtship was one that you suspected was more of show than of true intent. Plus, as rumors reached your ears, he had women he was also seeing already. Or courting. 

It was all very much like an alien take on ‘the bachelor’.  
Which, shouldn’t have bothered you, but it did. Loki had said he wanted to fuck you, to get you drunk on ‘carnal love’. Lust was easier- you felt that now, (you certainly did late at night thanks to the greasy bastard), but calling something love was strange, awkward. It didn’t feel right.  
“You’re thinking too hard again.” Lys’s voice crashed through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present, where you had been sitting with her near the training arena, watching some of the guards in an effort to placate some lord whats his name so he’d perhaps, stop bothering you for a while. Lys’s idea. Feed them a scrap or two, tease them, so they wanted more but knew not to press for it. Not to mention Lys had in her own way, come to accept your game with Loki.

“Maybe.” You sighed into the silk shawl you wore- burgundy. You’d been avoiding any shade of green or anything close to it since the night with your… lack of control.  
“Mind sharing just what of?” You shifted uneasy in your seat, eyes roaming the men in the distance grunting and doing overly showy skills and flexes.  
“That the men here are boring.” She snorted and winked at you.  
“Perhaps you’d find the ladies in waiting rooms more to your liking?” Lys had become more comfortable with you since the whole ‘gay’ aspect was known between you. It was harmless fun to tease the men nearby with the insinuation you found Lys more appealing than them. Not to mention, Lys seemed to be having a grand time with how easily it allowed her to deflect her own suitors with claims of needing to attend to you. You’d rather be labeled as her lover if you were honest. At least then, maybe men would think they had less a chance with you. As Lys explained it, Loki’s lust of you, known or not, would deter men in part- those who truly wanted or thought you ‘willing’ to indulge in carnal acts would still peruse, because in the end, Loki’s lust was a fleeting thing.

You were a Midgardian, and thus, not a viable candidate for anything lasting. 

“No, I just-“ You slumped in your seat, trying to instead, focus on the men trying to impress. It was comical in how they acted like it wasn’t for your benefit. You’d watched them when they didn’t know and they hardly acted the same. With you present, they made a show of it, puffing up like hens to try and get you to fawn over them.  
“I’m not attracted to displays like this?”  
“What? Sweaty men displaying their meat, grunting and swinging their swords?” You snorted another laugh.  
“No, I mean. Yes and no. I like a guy who can fight I guess? Hold his own? But if that’s what he wants to impress me with he’d have to try harder.”

“Suppose that would put me out of the running then.” Thor’s voice boomed behind you, jovial; you and Lys both jumped at his sudden appearance.  
“You highness!” Lys stood in seconds bowing. You follow but only demurely, bow your head, uncertainty wormed onto your face.  
“No need, (y/n), I came by because we have new of Amora. News that pertains to you.” Hope bloomed in your chest with Thor’s words and you smiled to him, not catching the sad look in his face. In hindsight, it should have been obvious.

Thor and Loki both looked perturbed while you had begun to shake at the revelations. Amora not only had discovered that she’d been found out on Midgard, but she’d managed to track down how- managed to track down your existence.  
“I- what do you mean I can’t go back?” You knew that chances were slim to start with, but that was with Amora no knowing who you were. Now, she knew it had been you to accidentally come across her charm, triggering it and sending you to the forest of Asgard in her place.  
“Amora knows you triggered the charm, and while your close acquaintances still think you on a business trip from a promotion and too busy for them-“  
“Thor, I don’t think that’s helpful.”  
“THEY WHAT?””  
“I told you.”  
“It was the most viable excuse! Stark came up with it!”  
“So they think I GHOSTED THEM?”  
“What’s ghosted?”  
“Brother, I think it’s akin to as the mortals say, ‘snubbing’.”  
“Oh.”

You felt all the pain of your loss welling back up, breathing became hard again and you fought back the tears that threatened to pour out.  
“I- Strange has her pinned, but now she’s on the offensive. If you returned now she would likely use you or kill you outright. She’s already-“ Thor hesitated and you realized you didn’t want to hear what he had to say. “I- am bound by my oaths to inform you that your immediate family was-“ 

The world spun and Thor’s words rebounded in your skull worse than any strike of his hammer.  
Murdered. Killed. Dead. By a woman who just wanted to kill you all because of an accident. You didn’t even know you were wailing in sorrow as you fell forward, barely caught by Loki and Thor, both desperately trying to console you while members of the court investigated the throne room. While you broke down, your family gone in a single act of vengeance.

You clung to red and green, tears spilling out as sobs wracked your smaller body, as your worst fears became a cold, soul crushing reality.  
This was real, the woman was a threat and you’d made an enemy of her.  
“YOU SAID EVERYTHING-“ You pushed away from them both, anger, pain, loss- it was all too much. “YOU SAID I COULD GO HOME ONCE YOU CAUGHT HER, NO ONE WOULD GET HURT-“  
“(y/n), we had every precaution, we never-“  
“WHY BOTHER KEEPING ME HERE?” You screamed at them, a look on their faces one you didn’t know. “IF SHE GETS- IF SHE GETS BACK HERE SHE’LL JUST KILL ME ANYWAY WON’T SHE? OR BETTER YET!” Your laugh is full of hurt, full of that cold rippling sorrow. “I’LL STAY HERE AND AGE AND DIE BEFORE YOU CAPTURE HER! AFTER ALL, WHATS 50 FUCKING YEARS TO IMMORTALS?” You screamed, wanting to hurt them, break something have an outlet for all the feelings inside you.  
“WHATS THE POINT OF BEING HERE IF I’M JUST GOING TO DIE ALONE?!” 

You didn’t even have time to push Loki away and he grabbed you fingers pressed to your temple.  
“Sleep.”

You slept for two days, dreaming of your family’s death. 

When you did wake up, it was night, and you were in your bed on Asgard, an IV in your arm. As memories came to you, you began to softly sob into the pillows that surrounded you, knowing you had lost nearly everything now. You family was dead, murdered by an insane woman you didn’t know. All because of an accident, a mistake. You cried until it hurt, nose running, eyes burning, and lungs flaring in pain. Your heart felt too much, and you wanted to take it away.  
“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, and sniffled as you looked up for his presence. He stood at the foot of your bed, perhaps, the most remorseful you could have ever have pictured him.  
“I failed to anticipate the depths of her fury and you have suffered the consequences.” He stood there, hesitant and gingerly, you reached out to him. You wanted someone, anyone, to hold you, to tell you it would be okay, that you were fine, even if it was a lie.  
“I know it is a hollow saying, a paltry balm but-“ He came to your side, gentle, comforting and cool in comparison to the burning heat of your sadness and overworked body. “-I am sorry for this.” 

He held you as you clung to him like a lifeline, as if he did have the power to change things, as if he cared.  
“I-“ You wanted to ask him why she’d done it. Your family was innocent, why kill them? To what purpose would it serve? “Why?” You voice cracked with the question and green eyes looked at you, guilt in their vibrant hue.  
“To provoke me to action. To likely send a message at our helplessness in apprehending her. Revenge. She is a woman we fear not because she is powerful, but because she knows her power, and has to qualms about using it for her own ends.” His hold lessened and he made a small sound.  
“I am- I also owe you another apology. You did not want my touch and I have not earned it.” He said it like he was scolding himself, and while Loki pulled away, you pulled him closer.

You needed comfort, you needed someone to anchor you in that moment, and he was the only one.  
“It- stay.” You whispered. “Please stay.”  
“It would be unwise of me to.” His hand brushed your own.  
“Why?”  
“Because you are a woman in distress. A woman I desire who is vunerable, and I am not a decent man to offer you comforts.”

Your mind, even awash in your sorrow, understood yet-  
“I hate you.” You confessed. “You’re cruel, even when you’re kind.” He sighed, a tiny smile tugging at his lips.  
“I am. But I won’t coerce a woman to satisfy my desire when she is not herself. I am many things, and guilty of many crimes, but not of this. Not with you.” You wanted comfort, touch, you wanted something real to hold onto, to just forget the pain and sadness and just be-  
“Please stay.”  
“I shouldn’t.”  
“Please.”  
“I will send for Lys and a healer. We can discuss thing in the morning and-“  
“I want you to kiss me.”

The words were desperate. You liked him, physically. He was charming in his own way, he made time spent in his company something to look forward to. The little barbs at meals, the jokes at each other’s expense to rile the other up, the lessons in Asgardian, the way he laughed and soothed your anger at your frustrations with being stuck on Asgard. Loki, for being someone who you shouldn’t have any reason to want to be close to, was someone you wanted.  
If just to kiss you, and make you feel human again.  
“I want to kiss you.” His face was close, his hand cupped your face and thumb brushed over your cheek.  
“I want to kiss you, ravish you, sooth you here and now with our bodies and make you forget everything. I desire to feel you tremble and gasp under me, writhing and begging for release as we make our way to Valhalla.” His voice made desire blossom in you, your cunt clenching and growing wet with lust.  
“I want to fuck you deep, feel your quim milking my cock as you ride me into the dawn. I would have you bent over the bed as I take you from behind. I’d have you against the wall, screaming my name. I would take you a dozen times, until your greedy, needy little hole gushed with my seed, spilling down your thighs. I would take you to the throne, have you seated on my cock in front of the entire court, letting them watch as you would cum for me, taking each inch inside you, your walls drawing my seed into your fertile womb.” Loki’s sudden rush of lewd words and talk sent you into a spiral, hands on his arms, leaning into him, begging for his lips to touch your own.  
You wanted him- you wanted to lose yourself, to take everything away.

“I want to kiss you, to do so many things to you, my wildfire.” His eyes flickered with uncertainty.  
“But not until you want me to do so, not until you are in your right mind to ask them of me.”

He pulled away and you cried out, tears fresh and hot from a desire of comfort, carnal, denied.

“In a few days, if you would ask it of me still, I will kiss you.” You cry softly in the air, wanting him back, if only because he’s the only one near.  
He smiles, sad and fond at the same time. “The pain you feel will pass, but I will not become your regret. And if I kissed you now, I know you would regret it.”

He pulled away, and as he left you to cry softly in your bed, you could feel his touch on your skin, cool and comforting.  
He’d embraced you when you reached out for him. He’d taken only what you had offered and given what you had needed. Somehow, that hurt more than you thought it would. 

The days after news of your family’s death were as alien as any other. On Asgard, the dead were mourned with honor, then celebrated with lavish drinking and merriment. Yet for you, a human, an earthling of western custom- there was only silent somber sorrow. Loki and Thor both had offered to host any manner of funeral rite if you wished it, but all you wanted was to be granted solitude when needed, and time to mourn in your own way, at your own pace.  
Some people didn’t understand why you didn’t wish for the funeral rites, the feasts. Lys didn’t and when she asked over and over you nearly screamed at her to stop. Her heart was in the right place but-

“(Y/n).” You had grown reclusive, much to Loki’s disappointment. He’d asked you to not be so, but even he was at a loss on how to aid you. Reparations in terms of money were of no issue, but emotionally, he was uncertain how to aid. Thor had brought you more of your personal effects, and had arraigned for Stark to assist in securing your home and belonging. The god of thunder had been ferrying various legal documents to and from Asgard- wills, proof of death certificates you had to sign off on, letters, estate clauses- You met someone from the former SHEILD agency who dealt with a lot of legal footwork. She was nice, helped you sort though it.  
“(Y/N).” Loki’s gentle voice pushed at the doors to your parlor, and you drew your eyes from the list of various accounts that had been in your family member’s names.  
“Come in.” As Loki entered, he didn’t smile so much as he let his lips quirk to show his pleasure that you had allowed him in.  
“Are you fairing any better?” He’d been worried in his own way, especially given your lack of willingness to continue your Asgardian lessons.  
“No.” The honest answer made him visibly wince. Anger was still fresh for you, and a part of you unjustly blamed him. Worse, the night would woke seeking comfort in his arms, begging for a kiss just to be denied- it stung. It shouldn’t have but it still stung.

“Has your liaison been helpful? Thor tells me that there is more paperwork to follow.”  
“Jennifer has been nice yes.” You are cold, distant as you can make yourself. Yet every time you look at him, anger and shame fills your face till it’s red from the embarrassment of it all. So you don’t look at him at all.  
“I have come to take what is mine.” His voice broke the silence, and you look at him, his face an unreadable mask. “I want to braid your hair.”

He took a step towards you. You stood. Another step to you, you took a step back. One step for another, he corrals you to the chaise, and you gasp as he uses his body to have you sink into the plush cushions.  
“Sit up, I can’t braid your hair laying down like that.” His smile is small, but a flicker of mirth at your prone form is easy to spot, and the fire of anger flashes in your chest.  
You pushed at him, sitting up right and pulling your hair free for his hands.  
“Have at it.” You said in a hiss.

And he does. His hands wove through the strands, untangling knots with his fingers, greedily rubbing your scalp and occasionally brushing his knuckles on your neck and ears.  
“Do you wonder why I spoke to you so crudely that night you woke?” Loki had separated three stands and begun to weave them as he talked.  
“I wanted to do so much to you, to be for you, but I knew I couldn’t be. I’ve slept with women and men after a great loss, and each time the result is the same- the memory is tainted by sadness, by pain. The idea that I would be yours and for you to recall me in such a manner does not appeal to me, and, I would have been taking advantage of you.”  
You sucked in a breath and he went on.  
“Sex is the ultimate release. The loss of all control and freedom at its finest. Yet cannot heal pain or mend wounds. It numbs you. You cannot become numb to this-“  
“And if I want to be?” You ask, unable to face this truth from a god of lies.  
“You aren’t. You’re trying, don’t think I haven’t noticed. But you and I are too alike. We feel too much. So much it hurts us deeper than we care to admit.” His hands drop the braid, so quickly completed. His hands ghost over your back. Fingers hovered down your spine.  
“Ask me again little wildfire.” Loki sounded-

You gasped, his breath was cold against your ear, his tone laced with hot lust.  
“Ask me to kiss you, if you truly desire it.”

“I-“ You realize you want him to, but not then. Not right now. Not some simple kiss.  
“I-“ His sigh is loud, your heart hammering in your veins and the dip in the chaise signals that he was leaving you.  
“I want to touch you.”

The click of his boots stops on the floor, as you turned, you see him, lips parted just a hair, eyes blown dark and wide with desire, his cock pressed to his leggings, firm and prominent. He wants you. If there was doubt that he wanted you for one night you realize, you have no more doubt. He wanted more than just a night.  
Carnal love he called it. Lust and desire. This is what he wanted to win from you.  
This was a game, but one you realized you both had begun to lose.  
“Why do you want me so badly Loki?’ You asked him, wondering in the back of your mind, why this stranger, this god, would want a human woman so average as yourself.  
“Because sweet fire, my lovely songbird-“ He smiled down at you, hand open, just near your skin, wanting to touch what he could not.  
“I know what it is like to be alone, and I would rather we suffer it together than apart.”

The Jotun king of a race who was ready to war with his own kind. King to his people who he once scorned and saw him a runt and inherently inferior. A liar god and trickster no one trusted, even when he sought to do good, to do what was right.  
“That’s why you care about me isn’t it?” You took his hand in your own. Cool, you dragged it across your cheek, nuzzling it so he held you as he did that night.  
“Because we’re alone?”  
“Alone- and yet you fight.” Loki sank to a knee, cupping your face and looking at you with both a hope and desire. “You rally against me, to fight conforming, to hope for your own return. Even now, in your sadness, you fight to hope, to not give in and simply accept what fate had chosen for you.”  
“And you?” You looked at his eyes, vivid and green and alight with his focus on you. “Are you fighting fate?”  
His laugh was deep, genuine, his smile the one you know, the smile of a trickster. “That is my very nature.”

 

“I want to kiss you.” Loki grins, wild, wanting.  
“For your legs.” You nod, a smile forming as you return to the game you know, the dance you started with him in the garden.  
“Hip to ankle.”  
“You realize that means I’ll have both your thighs and calves don’t you?” The mischievous twinkle was back in his eyes and you blushed. “It also means your ass-“  
“No, the ass is not a part of my legs thank you very much!” You pushed at him playfully, turning away as he laughed again.  
“Hip to ankle.” He recited, leaning in. “Tell me how to kiss you my wild one, my burning maiden.” 

You grabbed his coat and pulled him to you, a hand fisting into dark hair and you moaned into his mouth, tongue pressing, tasting him- rich wine and spices. Loki, to his credit responded enthusiastically, his own moan swallowing yours, his tongue delving into you own mouth, warring with you for dominance. 

When you pulled back to catch your breath, you realized that perhaps, you’ve played into his hands. Loki is the image of dark desire, eyes wild, breathing ragged, his body pushing down on your own with all the heat of barely contained lust.  
“Did I earn my keep little wildfire?” His playful tone made you gasp in understanding. A kiss is all he expects. Loki would only ever expect you at your word. He was the one to glean more from a bargain, the one to trick you for more. But you grasp his hair tight, you hold him close and lift a leg up, rubbing against his side.

“Who said I was going to stop with just one?” 

His eyes widened, his reaction to freeze and you kiss him again. Slow, sensual, you suck his lip and trace it with your tongue. You pull it with your teeth, drawing out the touch with an intimacy he never might have expected. Yet you don’t stop there. You kiss him over and over, feathering, peppering his jaw, working your way down his neck as he moaned your name, shuddering over you while his hands fell to your sides as he braced himself, unable to touch you as he was.

“Who said I just wanted your lips?” You kiss his throat, running teeth over his adam’s apple, moaning at the vibrating groan that left his mouth.  
“You gave me your lips-“  
“I-“ It was his turn to fight for words, his turn to be at a loss. Your own heart was hurting, but this- you know this. Passion is an act of nature, of primal carnal desire. This was what Loki wanted in part. This was what he’d begun to awaken in you, what you were giving into in the wake of losing a part of your home.  
“I gave you a kiss.” He pulled back from you, licking his lips, clearly wanting more, his hair a mess from your hands, marks of your teeth, red lines, on his neck.  
You wanted more from him. You wanted to see him come undone, just like he’d seen you. He lorded his power over your body, and now you wanted to lord your power over him. He called you wildfire- and if that was what you were going to be? You’d show him you couldn’t be controlled. Not by sorrow, not by anger, not by lust or blind by fear. You would defy whatever fate had in store for you, and if that was to be alone? You’d fight against it, and right then in that moment, you did the only thing you knew that would make you end the crippling loneliness you’d felt for weeks. 

“Who said I wanted to kiss that head?”  
Bold, wild, uncontrollable and unpredictable. Loki was chaos, then you’d be ruin. His breath sucked in you reached out and tugged him down onto the chaise, pushing him, a god, until he hay lay there under you, prone, grinning like a fool, wild and wanting.  
“Dearest, do you truly wish to go down this path?” He fought for control even then, to stop you, to make it so you could live shielded like you needed to be kept safe from harm, from yourself. But you’re human. You’re young and alive and life is full of mistakes and regrets. You looked at him, face awash with lust, desire, his lips parted as he panted-panted- for you. Everything Loki felt was because of you in that moment.  
“Remember this your majesty.” You ran your hands down his body, fingers hooking on the leather of his leggings, brushing the top of the firm bulge that was his hard cock. “Remember I chose this.” You stared at his eyes, so green, so bright they glowed. “And I didn’t make a mistake in doing so.”

You lower you mouth to his neck, kissing him softly as you lower your body, inch by inch sinking down until you’re on your knees, lips at his navel, your breath hot against his tunic.  
“Would you regret me though?” You ask, because a game this is, a challenge between you both, there is always permission. Never too far, never push to hard, too fast. You have to match each others pace.  
His hand fisted into the plush of the sofa, his groan was matched his head tossed back, the long expanse of his neck the only thing you could see.  
“Never.”

Your fingers hooked into the laces of his leggings, slowly working them loose, your mind screaming with fear and lust.  
“Then for tonight.” Loki gasped as the air touched his cock, hard, pink and bouncing in the air. “We won’t be alone.” 

You kiss him without hesitation, and Loki realizes perhaps too late, that he’ll no longer be able to continue with his original plan. Because as you took him, and you gave him something you’d given no other, he understood a terrible truth about himself.  
He could love you after all.


	8. A Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Loki come to terms with what they want in a way that is less than healthy

His hands fisted into the chaise’s pillows, grabbing with a force that had it been you, bones no doubt would be broken. Loki groaned low and long, arching his spine to push against you as you slowly engulfed his cock into your mouth and throat.  
He only lifted his hips and made his low wanting sounds, no other touch or move to control his own pleasure or you. He gave the power to you, and you rewarded him with gentle ministrations on the underside of the of the head, where his foreskin met shaft. Teasing, you tongued the bundle of veins there, toying with the soft, flexible folds of skin that were overly sensitive with nerve endings. Jotun or not, he was male, and his anatomy was oh so familiar to what you had imagined it to be. 

You practically glowed at the knowledge of how you controlled him in that moment, how you were the woman he’d chosen to pursue if just for a while, you were the human he’d debase himself with, allow to have him at their mercy. No doubt, one day, things would be different, had been different, but in that singular moment, looking up through your eyelashes, seeing his head thrown back, lips parted as he sighed your name into the air, you felt more powerful than a God.

Loki in his own mind was reeling from a mix of lust, admiration, and utter fear. He wasn’t supposed to get emotionally involved with the mortal woman. In time, he knew you would either be sent to your world under the lie that you’d never been under his care to spare you of her own people’s ire, or, you’d remain on Asgard, a ward of the state, eventually marrying some low lord or merchant for a mediocre if an uneventful life. Now, as you skillfully lapped at his glans, working him better than any courtesan had in months, Loki realized he’d become invested in you weeks ago. The game he’d started with you had been just that, a game. A way to see you squirm and teased with the right amount of fear and allowing you to come to see him as he was, as he should have always have been- a god of mischief. But he never expected the little mortal spitfire to play into the game. He hardly expected you to offer parts of yourself and to carefully word your interactions better than councilmen or courtly couriers. You rebuked him, often. Your rage gave you boldness no other would dare have. In your guile, you courted your own ruin willingly, testing his limits like one would an adversary. Like one would a rival.

And Loki-moaning your name like a prayer as you pulled back long enough to kiss his cock so softly so sweetly and lovingly- found himself so enamored with you he had wanted to be the one to teach you. He could have looked harder for someone else to take over the task of your education but, then, he rationalized he was better suited. In truth, he wanted the proximity. He wanted to know more about you, see why you would ask for the chance to learn rather than simply demand translated tomes or someone to translate for you. He was curious to know of the woman who balked at being served by another and who’s future might only marginally be effected by her own. He wanted to know the woman who’d so readily given him a second chance.

His breath seized as you sucked on the space of skin where his testicles met cock-  
“Oh.” Your warm breath ghosted over the flesh there. “You liked that.” Your voice was soft but knowing. You knew you had control and Loki was relishing it. In fact, he found he rather liked how you sounded, controlling and sensual. It was being placed second in his growing list of sounds he loved to hear spilling from your oh so delicious lips.  
“Harder” He grunted. Yet you only kissed him there again.  
“Harder-“ Loki repeated, his bucking when his demand was met with a light squeeze to his sac.  
“No.” You licked the slit of his cock, cunt pulsing as you tasted his salty essence. “I kiss you how I want.” Loki’s mind flipped to what your hands were doing as you gently sucked at his cock head. Eye closed, he focused on them, how they fondled his sac, gently rubbing and massaging it, playing with the soft black curls there. He wondered if perhaps, you found his hair distasteful. He knew it was natural, but on Midgard body hair was frowned upon. Did you have a slight apprehension to such?

The sensation of you nuzzling into the base of his cock where the hair was thickest erased the notion from his mind. You hummed against his skin, butterfly kisses placed along his hips while you fondled him, avoiding the length of his cock entirely.  
“I hate you so much.” You breathed against the dip of his hips. “I hate the fact you have all this power- and yet I’m still stuck.” Your teeth raked over his skin, rubbing the places where his bones were most prominent. “For all that power, for being a king, you can’t give me what I want most.” Bitterness laced your tone, and it soured the lust that filled Loki’s mouth. He wanted to erase it- he wanted nothing but your sweet nothings. He wanted the soft sighs and coos of pleasure, the hum of contentment and satisfaction. Loki wanted nothing but your voice to be filled with passion, pleasure, and delight.

He let go of the chaise cushions, reaching to run his fingers through your hair, eliciting a soft gasp at the gentle contact.  
“I will.” He lifted his head and swallowed at the sight of you. Lips glistening with saliva and pre- parted enough to see your soft pink tongue. Eyes half lidded in their own pleasure. Pink in your cheeks, flushed down you neck to places hidden from his eyes. He burned the image of you like that in his mind; of you, his wildfire, the stolen mortal on Asgard, so attentive to a king’s need she rested her head against his thigh, ticking his slick cock with each puff of breath;  
“I will give you everything in due time-“ He felt your hand squeeze him again, a spark of uncomfortable pressure mingling with the warm pleasure of your touch. “-everything for another moment like this.” 

You moaned for him, letting his balls go, letting them hang as you ran your hand back down his cock, pumping him slowly, lifting your face to hover above him, mouth open, strings of saliva drooled down to coat him. Wet heat, you eased the friction to a slippery wetness, allowing faster, firmer strokes. Watching him react with the small buck of his hips was worth it.  
You were no expert on oral sex, no talented lover, yet you wanted to show him what you could deny. You could show him, let him experience just once what you had that he could never take from you. As you pumped his cock faster, you looked at him, panting, pink running down his face into his neck, his upper chest. Muscles clenched and flexed each time you ran your thumb over the cockhead, gathering the sticky drops of pre to coat him, as if you planned to take him elsewhere. He was an Adonis lost in euphoria, a king at the mercy of a common woman. The raw sexual power you held over this man, this god, made your pussy wet, your cunt clenching with a primal desire for being filled.

“Loki.” You wanted him to know it. To be the one helpless at your mercy. You wanted to lord it over him. You wanted to make him feel weak and helpless and as twisted as it was- you wanted him to love it.  
“Look at me.” His head lifted, green eyes catching your own, pupils blown wide in raw desire.  
“I chose this.” You intoned, taking the tip of him between your lips, a soft suckling lover’s kiss.  
“This is mine.” You licked the slit, tasting him, coating your tongue with him. “And you can never take it from me.” Your desire, your body, was your’s. No matter what claims he made, no matter the bargains- You were your own woman, and no bet or deal would give him satisfaction. Not like this.  
Not like a lover wishing to see their partner, their equal, coming undone.

You took him deep into your throat, swallowing in time with your breaths, allowing muscles in your jaw and throat to relax, accommodate his girth and length.  
You name was shouted into the room as he tore the fabric of the chaise, soft cotton falling to the floor in his unrestrained passion fueled destruction. You loved it. You wanted more of it. His loss of control, your domination of him, his gasps and moans and cries of pleasure. They fueled you, made you drunk in a sense you’d never felt before.

You cunt pulsed with need, untended.  
You wanted to make Loki burn. You wanted to make him feel agony, suffering, pain. You couldn’t make him feel loss or such as you did. You couldn’t deny him Asgard as Earth was denied to you. But you could deny him your body. You could deny him touch.

“Loki.” You slipped off his cock, now throbbing, heavy and balls tight, ready to fill your body with his seed.  
“Lay down properly-“ He growled, a dark sound against your command. He wanted- but to disobey you now would end the game, leave him unsatisfied. “I want to use you.” He breaths came heavy from his nose, nostrils flaring at the suggestion. His mind reeled at the implication. Would you grind your cunt over his face, grant him leave to taste your sweet essence? Would you undress so he might see you pure and unhindered to the fullest extent? Did you want him nude, to better torment his flesh? Hot skin to skin- until he burned into nothing? To melt, a frost giant undone by the fires of his Midgardian lover?

Loki’s mind dreamed, begged for these things in it’s lust fueled delirium, as so he obeyed, moving his body until he lay prone on the ripped chaise, waiting for his cruel mistress, his unforeseen conquest turned conqueror.  
He blinked as you moved next to him, hand never ceasing it’s teasing soft touch.  
“Here I am my wildfire-“ He undid the laces of his tunic, allowing more skin. “-Your king, awaiting your loving kiss.”

The sound he made when you squeezed his base was nothing short of pained pleasure- a dollop of white escaped his cock. An orgasm denied the moment it was given. Loki enjoyed this agony- and you enjoyed giving it.  
“Are you my king?” You whispered, crawling over him, hips hovering over his face, a tease of what he craved most but could not have. “A king serves his people.” You let the pressure go at the base, letting his cock throb in denial. Your breath it’s only caress. “And I don’t need you to serve me tonight.” 

Bold, unpredictable, wild- you were made of fire for him, unstoppable when started. You balanced on your arm and his body, hand at the base of his cock to stop any release he might find- as your other hand ran down your own body, slipping under your leggings between your thighs.

Right in front of Loki’s face. Right where he could watch you, intimately, as you pleasured yourself behind the fabric, denying him both the sight of your soaked pussy lips, and of your fingers toying with your engorged clit. The sounds of your hand, the soft skin and squish of your feminine juices were unmistakable. The scent of your desire heavy as it wafted down to him. Loki’s own body trembled in want. He was so close, only to be so cruelly denied. Slowly, he was left helpless under you, hands at his sides as you fucked yourself on your own fingers, your quiet mewls and sighs accented only by gasps as you flicked your fingers over your sensitive clit. 

“You’d-“ You moaned as you pumped two fingers into your cunt, the wet sound they made loud in the air between you. “-You’d be so good inside me. Thick and long and hard-“ You licked him again, the single drop of cum exploding with salty flavor over your tongue.  
“Oh fuck-“ He tasted perfect. That bitterness, the salty tang, the musk- he was male, raw and real.  
“Oh fuck I- Oh you’d fuck me hard.” You kept trusting your fingers into yourself, hips rocking above his head as Loki’s own breathing grew steadily deeper.  
“Silver tongue- You’d be good at that too wouldn’t you?” You moaned sucking on his base, keeping a careful measure of the throb of his cock, refusing to allow him release too soon.  
“Take off those garments (y/n).” Your name left his mouth at the sound of it- oh the sound! You mewled with how dirty it was said, how much hunger was there. “Take them off and I will show you.”

“No-“ You moaned, drawing out the denial. “No- I can’t-“  
“Take it off, all of it, and I’ll show you all the pleasures a god can give.” His words carried the heat of dark promise, and your body shook with need. He could give it to you. All that lust and passion and pleasure, he could give it to you and more.  
“No- You don’t get that. Not yet, not yet-“ You rode your hand faster, gasping, reaching your own peak with each tiny bounce you made with your hips onto your hand.  
“I wonder how you taste- no illusions. Just you, pure, raw, _jotun_.” He gasped as you chose then to slide his length down your throat, fucking yourself on his cock while you hand gripped his base tight. No orgasm, not until the right moment. His voice cracked, your name a prayer. Not begging, but close, so close it made your pussy clench down on your fingers with the rush of power it gave you.  
Your pulled up, a spiderweb strand of saliva connecting you and his length.

“Show me your jotun cock- Is it bigger? Thicker? I want it.” You knew he wouldn’t- yet you had the power here. He wanted and so he had to give-  
“Give me your jotun cock, and I’ll give you a taste.” You pulled your slick fingers from your leggings, wet with strands of your own desire. Desire for him. The angle was odd but you held them in his view.  
“Give me what you deny everyone else, and I’ll give you a taste of my pussy.”

“Oh (Y/N).” Loki’s voice was deeper, and you felt it. The shift in the air, the tinge of cold, the press of two things against your inner thighs. The touch made you gasp, and looking down, you saw horns- not unlike his helm, curling from his head, parting your legs perfectly for him. Had you been bare, it would have given him the most intimate view of your pussy lips and open cunt.  
Yet his horns were inconsequential. No- his face, the sharp cheekbones, the high brow and burning red eyes- cerulean skin and whorls of raised flesh. Jotun, king- he was at his purest, his most raw, his most vulnerable.  
All for you.

“Oh fuck!” You broke eye contact, unable to see his lust and the depths it reached. Your fingers plunged back into your pants, frantically fucking yourself on your hand once more.  
“Oh fuck, oh fuck-“ You looked at his cock, thicker, longer- the hair at the base thicker too. His balls tight to his body, heavier, his own orgasm close.  
You bent down, working your way to swallow each inch of him, jaw sore as you swallowed again and again, feeling a cold pulse in your throat. Loki fared no better, your hot mouth taking his length making him shout your name. He’d tried to have lovers in his jotun form since his true nature had been reviled. Yet none had taken him so quickly, so recklessly. They had enjoyed his fingers and tongue, but his cock made them shy away. They did not enjoy the sight of him, of the contrast of his blue skin and their own. Yet the look in your eyes as you saw him was one of passion, of pure and true desire.  
Loki felt himself lose control, shouting as his hips bucked up, desperate for release you denied him yet again.

You hand held firm, his cock an angry off violet as it throbbed in your mouth, on your tongue. He would cum the second you let him go but oh- the feeling of control, of power. Loki was at your mercy, and you relished it, sucked hard on his length as you finger fucked yourself. He wouldn’t cum until you did- he wouldn’t cum until you were ready to swallow him. You wanted every creamy drop of his jism inside your mouth, you wanted to drink him down and make him dream of you. You would have his thoughts, dominate his lust, rule his wants and be the woman he craved.

You rode your own hand, on the edge of euphoria when he said the one thing that made you cry out for him.  
“(Y/N)! Please!” He begged you. Loki, King of Asgard, King of Jotunheim, All-father, ruler of the nine realms, begged you for release. The sound of his voice, cracking, of him arching his back, cock angry and throbbing in the air in front of you as you let yourself off his cock, hand tightening as you felt your body shake and seize in pleasure from the power you had gained.

Your cried out wordless as you came, the sound of your pussy gushing filling his ears as he watched a growing spot of wetness at the front of your leggings. Your mouth swallowed him to the root, too warm, too wet, too hot on his cold cock Loki cried out your name a second time, tears at the corners of his eyes as he felt it.

You hand letting go, throat swallowing around him, the entirety of his cock buried in your welcoming heat.

His vision turned white as thick white cum filled your mouth, sliding down your throat as you frantically swallowed as quickly as you could. So much cum came it threatened to escape your mouth but you remained fixed on your goal. No one would satisfy him like this- no other would come off his cock from such an orgasm and leave him free of any remaining seed. This was your time, a reward of power and dominion. He would never be able to see you and not think of the way you pleasured him, welcomed him, took him, embraced him, satisfied him. You would leave Loki a man starved for you, all because you’d given him a taste of what you had and he could never take.

Moaning as his cock twitched, his larger than average load swallowed down, you suckled on him, relishing the way he was slow to soften, the way he still filled your mouth, throbbing with each beat of his heart. Shaking, you pulled your hand from your cunt, an ebb of pleasure buzzing on your clit. Not entirely satisfied, but good enough.

Fem cum dripped down your digits, landing on his tunic, teasing him, just out of reach.

The scent of your orgasm was all Loki could smell, the sight of your slick fingers all he wanted. Yet he still couldn’t touch, and it made him shudder, your lips still wrapped around his cock. How long he laid back, boneless, eyes fluttering as you sucked every drop he could offer, skin still that blue he rarely wore. After he took his lovers he resumed his Asgardian skin quickly enough, but you wanted this- you wanted his true nature. You wanted this monster.

It was only when you let him go, the cool air hitting his warm and wet cock that he gasped, looking down to see you smiling, kissing him a final time before languidly moving off of him and sinking to the floor as if you too were boneless. He reached for you and yet you smiled, kissing his fingers before lifting your cum slick hand to your face, licking any remnants of his desire from your fingers.  
“I promised you a taste didn’t I?” You voice was breathy, and you both stared into each other’s eyes. Lust, desire, cruel domination and want for control- the red burned you and made you crave the danger they promised.  
“Tell me you want it.” It took him a second to find his voice, gravely, wanting.  
“I want your cunt- your quim’s slick, let me taste your nectar my wildfire.” Loki rolled his body, his eyes never leaving you. “Let me taste what I have dreamed of.”

You kissed him, lips soft and yielding you kissed him and moaned into his mouth as your fingers slipped back inside you, gathering more of your juices.  
“As you wish.” Your hand came away soaked, sticky- Loki looked at it like it was worth all the gold in Asgard.  
“For you-“ He leaned in, lips parted as you slid a finger into his mouth, “-my king.” 

His moan was loud, eyes fluttering as he lapped away at your hand. Sucking your fingers clean. It didn’t take him very long before he’d taken every drop, leaving you with only the barest hints of saliva left.  
“Your king.” He intoned. You had called him your king- but not because he had control over you. You had control over him, and now, you both knew it, the secret unlocked between you. You pushed your hand back down your leggings, gathering more of your feminine cream to feed him.  
“Yes.” You brushed his hair with your semi-clean hand as he once more, licked and sucked away your fem cum. His face blissed from orgasm and satisfaction.  
“ _My_ king.” The wicked smile as you repeated the action a third time, cunt growing wet once again, wanting him in full. His own cock, bobbing slightly as he once more grew aroused. 

“Tell your king what you want my darling.” He reached out, brushing your hair as you brushed his. Lover’s touch, you both smiled in wicked carnal afterglow. “Command your king.”

But you would not give him satisfaction. You would control your fate, your life, your destiny. Loki wanted you and what you possessed.  
“You begged me to let you come.” You whisper, and his red eyes widened.  
“I got what I wanted Loki.” You pulled away from him, watched as rage and lust filled him like a tidal wave ready to cash upon the shore. “Did you?”

You stood on shaky legs, turned and walked to your room. You felt him staring into your back, felt his fury and the burn of your denial like flames at your feet. As soon as the door shut, the crash came, the parlor suffering the king’s rage and fury at being denied. His howl was inhuman, and you heart pounded as you wondered if he’d lose all control. If he’d storm into your rooms and ravish you, take you like an animal, fill you to the brim and pump you full of his creamy, bitter, salty, perfect inhuman seed.  
You wondered if Loki would punish you, spank you, tie you up, pull your hair, take you until you cried for mercy. You wondered if he would spread you open, watch as you quivered and fucking yourself later in the night, imagining it was his cock inside you, not just your fingers. 

Yet all you heard was his breathing behind the doors, heavy, threatening.  
“You have started a game you cannot win my wildfire.” His voice was thick with want, with raw power so visceral it lapped at you neck, a chill down your spine. “I am a God. And you, sweet Midgardian, dearest songbird, my caged burning mistress of cruelty-“ You could see him in front of you, your dark god of Chaos and Mischief. Blue skin, red eyes, horns like the devil and hair as black as midnight. And illusion, but a reality. That was the man you craved between your legs, inside you, beside you, who had comforted you beyond any other.  
A god of all that others might turn from was the one who have given you solace when you needed it, and who saw your pain and understood it.

“You will be mine; My wildfire.”

His image vanished, a glittering dust of green and gold. Your heart in your throat you licked you lips. His taste lingered there, everything rushing you in it’s gravity. You had had kissed Loki. You had pleasured him. You had taken his cock into you. Swallowed his seed and fed him the evidence of your own desire. 

You licked you lips. He had shown you his true self, looked at you with red eyes, green eyes, eyes of fire and promise. He wanted you, yet had held back by the smallest, thinnest of threads. How easy he could have dominated you, spun you and controlled you, how easily you would have let him in fleeting moments of your mutual passion. Yet he had restrained himself. He’d given himself wholly to your mercy, you whims and desires. 

You shook, trembling before falling to the floor against the door in a heap. You had done all of that. Become a dark mistress, cruelly denying her lover his much deserved release all for her own gratification, for power. Your panties were soaked through, the front of your leggings sporting a spot of wetness where you’d cum and drawn your juices free to feed the man who’s seed rested inside your belly.

You stared at nothing, replaying the events in your mind, of what had changed, what had made you snap and crave power so deeply over Loki and no other. He was a man, not unkind, but playful in his malice. He was alluring in his secrets, in his powers and skills. His talents varied, and he relished showing them, sharing them to you in lessons of a world that was his by guile and luck and not by birth. What had changed? What had made you want to control such a man in such a way?

His words echoed in your mind.  
_‘I will become your king’._

You wanted him to become your king. Some deep, dark, little twisted part wanted that- to be ruled. To give into his commands and desires, to forget earth and all it’s problems and allow yourself to stay on Asgard. Your family was dead, you had been effectively missing for months. What was on earth to make you stay? No lover, no pet, a job, car payments, bills, failing governments and a dull, simple future. A death should a madwoman find you for misguided revenge.  
Loki, your king- but you could never surrender completely as he wanted. Yet to have a king…

So you took a king. You took him as only a woman could, as only a lover could, as only someone who had nothing could take from another who had nothing while he had everything else he could want. You had taken Loki as your king. Loki, the man you denied, king of the realm eternal, was the king you’d take as a lover.  
No.

With a jarring clarity, you realized what you wanted.  
_’I know what it is like to be alone, and I would rather we suffer it together than apart.’_  
You wanted to be with someone who understood this pain, the agony of being alone in a place not made for you. 

You took a king who was alone, and made him yours- and in exchange, you had given him the beginnings of something you hadn’t given anyone. Something you doubted anyone had given him.  
A kingdom, a lover, a companion, who could embrace him as only an equal could. 

 

Miles away, on another world, Amora laid back on her own bed, watching the men before her salivate and stare. All of them, weak peons, cogs in a machine. Truly, no sport, not like Asgard. No one had magic to fight her with, and women were grossly controlled and had such little agency it was appealing. Yet, for now, having these men fawn over her, buying her fine things and begging for anything, even a passing glance, she enjoyed the small power she felt. Yet it wasn’t the same.  
It had been far too long that she had been at her full power, an army at her command. Yet these world leaders, members of the United Nations served their purposes. So long as Thor was unable to bring aid from Asgard, she had no reason to fear any sort of actual retribution. Loki, the bastard he might have been, was king, and his own history prevented him from setting foot on Midgard. Thor was too blind in the ways of this backwater little planet to see how easily she plucked the strings of his favored world’s leaders.

True, she had that pesky sorcerer supreme to contend with when she wanted to leave but he was a man after all. The main issue was that before, she hadn’t any clue as to how they tracked her to earth. But- her lucky little charm proved to be lucky indeed. Sure, some woman had gotten caught up in the mix, but really, it was her own fault. Her sources said the woman was Loki’s guest- as well as his current conquest. Killing her family was just the start. A small provocation she knew the mercurial Loki might scoff at and brush aside.  
But women were needy things. And the loss of the her family would spurn the woman closer to the man whom she must rely on. In order to appease her, to make himself seem better, Loki would take action to placate her, being the very kind king looking out for the poor simple Midgardian woman.  
Amora smiled as anticipated what would come next.

Thor, ever honorable, ever wanting to think he did the right thing. Loki, always invested in himself, even when he attempted otherwise.  
Amora tapped the screen on the tablet, the image of the Avengers coming up.  
It was time to pay a little visit to a few of earth’s mightiest heroes.


	9. Token

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki comes to terms with the situation, while the Reader grapples with their own feelings.

You didn’t feel regret over the fact you sucked Loki’s cock. Hell, you didn’t regret that in the slightest. It was spank bank of the highest material. Not only did you get to not only see, touch and taste his Asgardian cock, you also got the blue giant dick that was probably the best kept secret among the women of the nine realms. Seriously, why the hell Loki didn’t have women on his arm at all hours was beyond you- (never mind the whole Asgard-Jotun issue. The man had an amazing dick! And that was saying something from a woman who had lived in the age of social media where dick pics practically thrived on tinder). No, there was 0 regret over having sucked Loki’s dick. 

The regret was that you wanted to do it again.  
That was the part you regret. 

You knew, you knew that the second you got anything close to intimate with him, you’d want more. Human were pack animals after all, they pack bonded. Humans pack bonded with anything. Hell, people treated roombas as beloved pets even! So it fell to logical reasoning you’d grow attached to Loki over time, bond to him in your way. Want his company. You thought that the lessons in Asgardians would be enough and for a while they had been. Then there dinners. Then the occasional meetings here and there. The gardens. The gallery. The main hall- brief moments together where you spoke in good natured barbs, as if you might have a secret between the both of you but was actually just a teasing of each other’s own differences. He teased about your outfits, you teased about his horns and style- he teased about your accent, you mocked with a welsh one. His quips using terms and phrases had you popping out ‘mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell’, (which made no sense to him at all), among other things.   
Loki had managed in the past weeks, to become an anchor for you. The one you bonded closest to because he simply knew most about your home, he was the most familiar thing in a world that was alien and overbearing.

And you went and sucked his dick like it was going to give you frozen yogurt in your favorite flavor. (If he wore a flavored condom, would it taste like the flavor or like the popsicle version of that flavor?) You regretted sucking his dick.  
Because now, at breakfast, the next morning, you felt his eyes burning into you, as if daring you to look at him and see the fact he was eye fucking you with such intensity you could feel his metaphorical erection. And God help you, if you looked at him, you’d eye fuck him right back.

Heat pushed at your cheeks as you ate, mindful of your manners and you made poor attempts to speak to a few of the men at the table. Most could tell something had utterly changed, their reactions to you telling. They kept a distance to you, spoke more formal, and their eyes flicked over behind you, to Loki every so often. To them, Loki was the top of the food chain, the apex, the alpha male in the room. And he’d claimed you as _his_ to hunt down. It was annoying.

When your meal was finished, you figured that was that, back to your room, study up, maybe go for a walk later. You would blow the lesson in Asgardian off for another day. Besides, you and Loki both needed a day to sort of.. recover from the heated sex-not-sex that had been your tryst. But nothing was ever simple with Loki. No, the man had warned you, _this was a game you could not win_.   
“Pet.” His voice was perfectly sensual. The fact that he’d called you pet of all things, loudly, openly, was a clear sign.  
This was a game you will not win. It echoed in your skull.

But you refused to back down. You were a wildfire? Let the fucker burn in his own flames.  
“I don’t recall you buying me. Or owning me. Or me giving myself to you.” The words came with heat, red in your skin and men and women alike stared at the spectacle before them. Drama was basically Asgard’s reality TV. They lived for it and you and Loki were basically a walking HBO show in the making. You certainly had the sex aspect down behind closed doors as it were.

“Frankly, call me pet again, and I’ll be forced to do something you won’t like.”  
“Oh?” His voice was lit with anticipation. The back and forth you had captivated the breakfast audience. From the corner of your eyes you saw his posture. Relaxed, arrogant. He was entertained by your defiance, by you playing this game with him in such an overt public manner. The stakes had been raised.  
“I am pretty sure I could dig up that video of Hulk smashing you into the floor.” His expression dropped. He’d not expected the shift of play to predator so swiftly.   
“My favorite is the remix with the overlay of holla back girl. We will rock you is also a good one. Oh! Stark calls you Rock of Ages- Hey, hey Eld!” One of the younger council men, a lanky stick of a man who was in charge of the capital’s finances for local commissions, paled as you called to him, not wanting to have been dragged into you and Loki’s verbal spar.  
“Does Asgard have a sort of mass video system?”   
“Uh-“ Loki leaned forward, clearly trying to intimidate the scrawnier man. “-In a way?”  
“Cool. Hook me up with a stream say, tonight. You’re gonna love it- It’s fucking hilarious!” 

“You will do no such thing!” Loki slapped his hand on the table, half standing, a light blush dusting his face. He was embarrassed. Better- he was absolutely embarrassed- and you were going to make him get a boner in front of his entire court.  
“Weird, I don’t recall you being my master.” You gave a curtsy smirking as you saw Loki purse his lips, utterly livid. “My king.” You gave him a look of seduction, a look that betrayed you. You wanted him angry, you wanted him mad. More, you wanted him to ravish you, fuck you wild and raw and untamed- but he couldn’t his own oath and this game you played prevented that.

The sharp intake of breath, his widened pupils, the part of his lips- And your smirk as you saw the bulge in his pants visibly grow.

Without waiting you left him to his court. Stunned, entertained, and no doubt starting ten some odd rumors by noon about you and Loki. All you really cared about was the fact that while some men might not have noticed Loki’s erection, you saw the reaction the women had- they certainly got an eyeful.

And a twisted part of you was tickled pink to know you sampled him before they had any idea what kind of heat their Jotun king was packing.   
Ha! Heat from a Jotun. 

As you managed to get to your rooms you felt heated yourself. Images of Loki, cerulean with raised etches in his skin, hair darker than midnight, eyes like demon’s fire and teeth like fangs. The horns that crested above his brow, connecting to the markings like a natural crown. He was a demon of ice, a king displaced, and some sane, rational part of you screamed danger at the sight, the memory of him in that true form but the other, more primal part?  
You wanted that man again. You wanted him to pin you down and fuck you from behind. Large cock stuffing you to the brim, stretching your pussy open wide to the point it burned. You wanted to be tied down, legs forced open and apart while he ate you out, filling on his title of silver tongue. You wanted to ride otop him, bouncing in his grip while he used you like a cock sleeve. Every image of Loki, Jotun and wild, was obscenely scandalous. Oh, he could the same things looking like an Asgardian, but- there was something exciting about being taken, dominated, by an alien and knowing you were being fucked by a non-human. Being ruled by a man who was so much more than just a man. Supposedly, women were attracted to the strongest, more powerful male that surrounded them and also cared for them and provided for them.  
Loki fit that description to the letter. He was kind when he taught you letters and words, he soothed you when news of your circumstance broke, he proved things for you, was at meals with you- 

“Fuck.” You cursed behind the closed doors, feeling the wetness between your thighs practically soaking your undergarments. You wanted to fuck Loki. You wanted to fuck him badly and the bastard probably knew it too. But as much as you wanted to fuck him, you also knew that when you did, the game would end.  
He'd have his night of passion, his prize won, his curiosity over your defiance ended. You’d just be another woman to him, a passing fancy. You wanted from him, hell, from anyone, something lasting, something tangible, real. Loki couldn’t give that to you. And it hurt.

“Fuck.” Your sadness was coming back in force. You felt a connection to him. He understood the isolation, the crippling loneness you felt on Asgard. You didn’t belong, not really. Mortal, human, Midgardian- it marked you as other, as outsider. No matter what you did, what you said or ate or could do- you’d never really be Asgardian. Just as he’d always be a Jotun.  
He understood what it was like to be accepted- yet to be so very, very alone. He had years, hundreds of years feeling but not knowing why. He’d had years to come to terms, to change the way he was seen, to help guide his home so he was not so isolated, so his true nature wouldn’t be the first thing people knew, people saw.  
You didn’t have that. 

Asgardians glowed. They rippled faintly with a power you lacked. Magic, Loki had explained to you, was present in every being, but for Asgardians, it was as natural to them as breathing. They had an affinity for it, and even someone like Thor with no training could preform simple skills. To humans, they glowed, a hum of energy under their skin. More, Asgardians were heavier, the gravity making them resistant, resilient. You could barely run one of their miles before you were entirely weakened for the day. They were strong. Wood broke like twigs in their hands. You could barely lift a fully wooden chair at dinner. At every turn, your human nature betrayed you. Your mortality marked you.

You held back the bitter sting of tears.   
You didn’t want to be alone, but Loki, the only one who even had an inkling of how you felt, couldn’t be with that person for you. Because the moment you we together, you’d be left to part.

The heat between your legs didn’t leave, and alone, in the silence of your rooms, you slipped under the covers, rubbing your clit and imagining a cobalt lover looking at you like you meant everything to him.  
You bit back his name when you found the gentle dull relief of orgasm. 

 

Loki, to his credit, was not surprised to find you skipping the lesson. He expected that after the previous night, you’d want some distance. He hardly could have expected you to escalate the game so quickly however. The game typically was more drawn out than this. Week usually went by before one side would move again, usually the man once more who would press the lady to accept a invite to a informal party. One she’d normally attend anyway, but now with the implication she did so at the man’s request. From there the woman could ensure she was either to make her rival suffer or indulge them. The game was typical in it’s movement, Asgardians all knew what to expect.

But you-oh you-were wild. Utterly, deliciously unpredictable, if you were an Asgardian woman you’d have said nothing sneered or scoffed at the pet name. But you had spun it right back on him. Twisted it like a dagger in the dark and stabbed him with it. And oh, how Loki found he loved the sting of your bladed words. The angry fury at your dismissal of him, your threat of public humiliation, your sultry voice calling him your king in mockery.

His cock had turned into dwarven steel in seconds. 

He’d been publicly embarrassed and forced to endure it- and everyone at the breakfast had seen it happen and also the aftermath. His smile, his lust so on display. Traditionally the game wouldn’t have such barbs between players until things were reaching the end. Yet they were not even close. Oh, they had been intimate. The taste of your feminine cream still haunting his memory, but he hadn’t the pleasure of touching your core, of penetrating you by his own will. 

Sitting in the empty room of the library, Loki worked to ready the space for you next lesson when the idea struck him. You wanted him- and no doubt, you would seek pleasure as you had when you serviced his cock. Fingers made for a poor substitute, this much he knew from experience, and, as you only had the ability to use Thor’s funds for any desired purchases, everything you obtained was notarized as so Thor might account for the funds used. You’d not purchase anything that might alleviate your need.   
Loki felt himself growing aroused at the idea. He’d made his cock molded to create a toy before. Well before he’d mastered the art of creating solid clones at least. But that toy was old, and he’d not used it in ages. No- for you, he’d need to make a new one. Something memorable, something you’d look at and want to use but be ashamed to. 

He palmed himself in the empty room, thinking of what you’d make of it. A toy, made of glass- no- of false flesh- magically crafted to mimic his cock in every way. To gently vibrate to stimulate your nerves deep in your cunt, his testicles also molded to sit at the base, so you could firmly place it on a surface and ride it for your pleasure. He could make it heat and cool-

Loki groaned at the memory.

Your face, blissed and adoring as you sucked the slit, moaning around him as his seed filled your mouth, his blue flesh yielding and being worshiped like no other had before. A handful of lovers trusted him when he shed his Asgardian skin. His seed was cold like him, yet that hadn’t even mattered to you, you swallowed him down like you wanted it, more of it even. Your entire body shook as you came, while he was under you, Jotun, alien, monstrous.   
He shouldn’t have done it, should have said no- but the heat in your eyes, the lust, the pure innocence in you of not knowing why Jotuns were to be so feared and hated. You held none of the prejudice of the Asgardians. And so when faced with a lover who had blue skin, red eyes, the mantle of a barbaric race and being it’s king? You had welcomed him, and took your pleasure from him.

Loki wanted to repeat the moment a thousand different ways. 

He wanted to enjoy that single moment where he hadn’t held back, didn’t care that he was Jotun, and he’d just-  
Your name on his lips, the sound of your passionate cry coupled with release and he’d felt it pull at him in a way that was painful. You were adrift in a realm you were not born for, not made for. Alone and embraced, you would be welcomed but never a part of. He saw Asgardians look at you, the flickers of pity and empathy in their eyes. The way they watched their strength around you, handled you like glass and even when they wanted to get close, he saw why. Exotic, fragile, helpless and desperate for support, for a sanctuary. It burned him to see in the eyes of others what he wanted to be. It burned to know now that he wanted to be the one for you, the one you sought for comfort, for solace. Jealousy born of his own loneliness. Childish, yet none the less all too real. 

He wanted you for more than the game now, and that was dangerous. He was king- a reluctant king ironically, but still a king. Even if Thor reclaimed the crown, he was still the rightful king of Jotunheim. And you were a mortal woman. Nothing could change your nature. He could take you, love you even, but it would end in pain for you both. Your death would hurt him deeply, he knew himself too well to know when he felt, he felt too much, and love? Love was sentiment, the worst kind, and for an immortal, sentiment was the greatest weakness. And you- to be loved by a god. To be forced to be forever the weaker, the lesser in the eyes of their people, to doomed to be loved then die and be forgotten. An agony Loki could not begin to fathom. 

Assuming you could love him. 

As Loki’s thoughts turned grim, his lust dimmed, his cock growing limp even with his touch. It was… horrid. He’d unwittingly found a woman who’s company he genuinely enjoyed and would court even, and she was mortal. Because of course she was, the fates would taunt him such. Giving him something to want and see before him, only to take it from him in a few scant decades. 

Growling, Loki sat at the desk, the memory of your laughter over learning curses in Asgardian making him smile. He recalled it fondly, the way your nose wrinkled, the lit of your laughter and the unabashed smile that broke across your face. ‘Truly, this is the kind of education I really should have known you’d teach me Mischief’. It had been the first time you let the walls between you and he melt, the first moment he realized that he enjoyed his time with you, sparse as it was.

But these feelings were young and fresh. Born of lust and also fear of the possibility of more. He growled again, sulking.   
You were mortal, and he, a God. A king. 

Loki stood abruptly, making his choice.   
He was a god of Chaos was he not? Mischief and Lies. Wildfire. A Frost Giant who sat on an Aseir throne. He defied fate at every turn, escaped death with every kiss. You were mortal and he a god.  
There had been legends written for less.

Smirking Loki left the study, a plan in his head forming.  
First- a gift, just to keep the game going.

Two weeks passed. Two weeks of no lessons, no Loki. Your time was occupied by Lys teaching you about the court, about Asgardian customs, and-  
“Lady (y/n)!” Sven, a guardsman for the main grounds called out to you, flowers in his hand. Sans armor he was clearly off duty for the day and your heart dropped. In the days following Loki’s public Hulk beatdown tape release, men had come forward professing their wishes to court you, or, like Sven, showing interest in doing so.   
“I wished to congratulate you, I heard you managed to ride Slepnir across the training track the other day.” It was honestly, nothing to celebrate. You’d managed to get permission to practice, and with the excuse that technically, Loki had already ‘given’ you the horse once, he couldn’t take it back.   
“Thank you Sir Sven.”  
“Just Sven if you please my lady.” The guards’s voice was clear in his intention. He wanted familiarity, and you- you didn’t want him. The Blond blue eyes did nothing for you. Not a single spark.   
“Sir Sven, thank you for the flowers.” You accepted them without hesitation. Lys had told you that it was customary to refuse a gift first from a man then accept it after the second offering. It signaled that you wished to enter into a possible relationship and courtship. Accepting outright it was seen as a gesture nothing else. 

Sven’s face dropped when you took the flowers. “I’m certain that Lys will find a place for them. Did you have anything else to say?” Your honey words conveyed the meaning well enough, and Sven’s lips pursed in annoyed embarrassment.   
“Nothing Lady (y/n).” He nodded his head and briskly walked off. You dumped the flowers into a nearby bush as soon as he was out of sight.

“You could have at least have given them to Lys to put out on a table.” His voice cut the air, and you shivered. Two weeks without his company, and still, he managed to make you shiver with excitement.   
“Yes well.” You spin to face him, only to have your words vanish. Loki was half nude, chest bare and sweat making him glow like so many other Asgardians.  
“I-“   
“Hm?” His smirk and hum was smug and it made the blush you fought to contain burst forth unwanted.   
“You’ve been training?” You made it a question though it was rather obvious. The green twinkle of his eyes was telling as a dagger appeared in his hand.   
“Yes. I’ve had far too much time as of late, and I felt if I could not keep my mind busy, I best keep my body busy.” A step towards you and the scent of body odor, musk- not pleasing but not disgusting- hit you. “Though there are far better alternatives than thrusting against a lifeless target.”  
The inuendo wasn’t lost on you, and you licked your lips, not sure why now he would return to engage you. Two weeks you and he had ghosted each other. Two weeks, neither of you spoke of the night you had shared.

“Well, it helps to use a sword and not a dagger.”

His laughter was bright, and he smiled, playful and alight in his element, seductive but not so dark and wanting. “Perhaps. But, I did want to give you something.” He was bare from the waist up and it was then that you realized several people were watching you.  
“I- what would you give me and why?”  
“I would give you my dagger fair lady (y/n). You need something to protect yourself with after all.” Your heart nearly leapt out of your throat.

Lys told you men with serious intentions to court you would present you with a token they were fond of for a purpose. Something of them so to speak for you to use. The first token to be rejected was to symbolize that you would not take something from a man that would render him without. That you were not easy to win over and you needed not a man to make you happy.

“I-“ Accepting ended the game. It would end Loki’s ability to chase you, to tease you lest he wish to be seen as aggressive and hostile. Refusing-  
“I appreciate the fine token your highness, but I must refuse.” Refusing kept the game going. It gave Loki the opportunity to later present a token again to try and win your favor.

The dagger in his hand vanished and he nodded. “May I ask why? It is a fine dagger.”  
Why say no? He knew you were no longer ignorant of Asgard to such a degree. So why not accept, he had avoided you and likely suspect you no longer desired to play but, his eyes-  
You wanted to slap him and kiss him at once. The bastard had the gall to look hopeful. He wanted to continue the game, he wanted to peruse you, and with other watching such a blatant, classic open intent-  
“I shouldn’t need a dagger, you already are sworn to protect me.” 

The small gasps echoed around you, Loki’s lips parted and eyes widened. You had refused his token because you did not need something of him to make yourself complete-  
You had no need for his token when he’d already given you what you’d needed.   
You smiled softly at him, blush red and deep on your cheeks.   
“I believe you are skilled enough to do that without me needing to arm myself.” Loki took a moment to compose himself, green eyes focused on you, a strange warmth in them.  
“Your words gladden my heart. But- Ah well. Never mind. I’ll see you at dinner.”

 

You did eventually see him at dinner, where he spoke to you at length, teasing you like no time had passed like you fit back into your place near him, barbs and veiled insults matching wit to wit. You didn’t even notice his trick until metal and stone hit your lips.  
The pasta you’d been ready to eat had turned into a necklace. A fine one at that. Golden chains as thin as spider silk, woven into a soft braid. In the woven lengths, dots of diamonds hung in vibrant contrast. It was little more than a centimeter in thickness. Not to light, not to heavy, a piece of jewelry that would match to any number of outfits.   
“Lady (y/n).” Loki’s voice always commanded a bit of attention, but the eyes drifted to you, necklace hanging off of your fork.   
“I thought upon the gift this afternoon and- I felt perhaps this might suit you better.” The second gift was supposed to be one of meaning that the man had a hand in making. When it was jewelry, it was usually a unique piece the man had commissioned. Rejecting it was the ultimate snub, the ultimate refusal. The ultimate out.

Accepting it would mean that Loki was officially courting you. That his intentions were beyond that of mere lust. It made such little sense but then-  
His smile was hopeful, his gaze lust but so full of the same longing you felt in the past two weeks. You missed him. His wit and charm and mischief. You missed the lessons, the teasing, the dark looks and subtle teases and brushes of his hands on places he’d claimed.   
“Suit me how?” You set the fork down, running your fingers over the necklace. It was finely made, but-  
“You are as you said, under my protection, and so you should have no reason to arm yourself.” He stood and it was like watching a daytime TV drama unfold but with you as it’s star.  
“Yet I wish to know you will never come to harm while I can prevent it. So I made this for you- the gold is from deep Asgard, a place where we may draw from the roots of Yggdrasil itself.” The sound at the table was mummers, as their king strode to you, intent in his eyes. “The diamonds are made of starlight, containing energy and fueling wards and spells woven into the gold.” He came to a stop next to you.  
“And the emerald in it’s center is my magic given form. So that no matter what harm might seek you, I will be there to prevent it’s hand.” You hadn’t noticed the emerald, small, it was almost hidden, but it glittered all the same. The same shade of his eyes, you realized why this was such a significant offering and token.

Loki was making it known this wasn’t a passing fancy. You were not just a game to be won then forgotten by him and the court. He was going to court you.   
He was saying you were something he wanted to truly attempt something more with. 

You heart thundered and you looked from man to necklace.  
“I-“ Loki’s smile faltered.  
“If however it is too much, I will make you something else perhaps, I just don’t wish you to feel that you are ever at risk from Amora.” He was trying to save face but you smiled. His pride was wounded by your hesitance. For a man who could be so cocky and arrogant, he certainly pretended he did not care as much he did.

Without a word you brought the necklace up and hooked it behind your neck, causing the table to thrum with excitement; Their HBO show just entered into season two.

“Loki.” His eyes spoke louder than his smile. “Thank you.”

Then, you figured, the people at least deserved a teaser for what to expect with the new season.

Standing, you patted his cheek affectionately.   
“You know, on earth, we usually just ask someone if they wanted to get serious but- I have to admit, I kind of like this whole gift courting thing.”  
You broke the rule. One didn’t outright say it was courtship. They didn’t ever say it until some time has past.   
You could have dropped a pin and heard it ring.

“Plus we usually also just kiss.” So you did. In front of everyone. 

You kissed Loki, king of Asgard, right after accepting his suit for your hand and favor, right after accepting his bid to court you. You kissed him, on the mouth, leaving no question just as to how you felt about him.

“And when our lover gives us fancy jewelry, sometimes we want to model it for them behind closed doors.” Your whispered into his ear before you pulled away with a wink.

Leaving Loki sporting another massive erection while his court watched you walk away to your room.

You smiled as you walked back to your rooms, Lys running after you, babbling about what you’d done, of traditions broken and rumors started and why accept his suit and be so bold-  
“Lys.” You told her gently.  
“Please leave. Loki will be showing up soon, and frankly?” Your blood was singing with the thrill of it all. “I can’t wait.”

You were going to win this game- and the heart of a God.


	10. Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one chapter everyone thinks is going to be a footjob or a foot fetish but it's not.

You didn’t have much time to get ready for Loki’s appearance. You couldn’t really claim to know the man well, but you certainly knew that he’d not pass up the blatant invite to go to your rooms for the possibility of a sexually charged encounter. After all, two weeks he’d been eye fucking you, and men were men, alien or not. Loki had his dick sucked and like all men, was likely hoping for another equally satisfying encounter. Sadly, you had other plans. You had accepted, hopeful, wishfully thinking that yes, Loki was being serious in the bid for courtship. Your logical self assumed not, given the fact that you were still a mortal and nothing would change that. But the romantic in you, the woman alone and finding comfort in the company of a man who gave her not pity but respect, hoped he might have honest intentions.

Though a god of Lies being honest seemed as straightforward as anything these days.  
Still, you had no time to waste. Flinging off your dress, you rushed to your room, hunting down the scantiest, laciest, sluttiest pair of panties and bra you owned. Black, the thin ribbons of the thong would barely cover your sex, a triangle of fabric just barely covering your quickly heating core, something you knew you’d soak through in the first few minutes if everything went according to plan. The bra was even worse. It was less a bra and more just a prop. It didn’t even cover your breasts. Rather, it lifted them, straps crossing over your chest in back in intricate lines to shape your mounds in a pleasing manner for any who’d get to see them. 

The harder part had been the little extra efforts. The necklace hung perfectly around your neck, and you paired it with two thin gold bangles, both that had tiny disks that glimmered from them. You grabbed your own breasts, pinching your nipples painfully hard to ensure it was just slightly pink and sufficiently filled with blood. Eyeliner you omitted, fearing you might shed a few tears for one reason or another, but the red lipstick was a shade reserved for femme fatales in noir films. You planned to kill Loki, (if just with a little death as the French would say). 

Sufficiently pleased with your appearance, you chose a soft cotton nightdress to cover yourself with. It was utterly modest and also, absolutely painful in how plain and demure it was. It was the kind of thing everyone’s grandmother wore in every period re-enactment film and made you cringe. Your mind went over your appearance a final time. If you wanted to spur Loki further into lust, into the understanding that no matter how much you wanted to fuck him, you simply wouldn’t, you needed leverage. You needed to establish a control over him the same way you had when you’d taken his cock in your mouth.

A bang of the doors in your parlor jolted you from your thoughts, and the sound of his boots on the floor sent a lightning rod of red hot lust right between your legs. You god, no, your king was here. Not Asgard’s king you mused, your king, the one you managed to make beg for you.  
“(y/n).” His voice filled the parlor- the other side of your bedroom doors. “I wished to partake in what is mine.” It was a wicked promise, a threat of ruination the way he could take now so much and make you crave him as he craved you. But you would not yield to him, not tonight.  
“Your majesty.” You opened the door with a purr, demurely leaving the safety of your bedroom to join him in the room that had already seen your previous debauchery and sin. “What would you have of me?”  
You walked to the new chaise, sitting down and drawing up the nightgown to expose the soft expanse of your legs. “You’re newest acquisitions?” The thrill of seeing Loki’s eyes widen, pupils blown as he stared at your bare skin was a reward in itself.   
“That, among other delights of your mortal flesh my sweet.” Loki was devested of his more formal dining attire, once again in the casual tunic and leggings you’d seen him in only once before. It was intimate in it’s way, to know he’d come in what amounted to his relaxation wear.   
“Sweet?” You crooned, trying to play the role of seductress, and wondering if you were playing it on a bit too thick. “I thought you preferred me with a little heat.”  
“Ah, I do, but too much zest and spice ruins a dish.” He snapped back, a wicked grin tugging at his lips.   
“I hunger for much more than your soft thighs quivering as I part them and tease you with a silver tongue promise. I yearn to taste your name spilling from those wicked lips, while I kiss you lips in sacred, carnal worship.” His voice sent tremors through you, sending heat right to the same lips he so wanted to kiss. “I crave to watch you writhe as I sink myself into your body, giving into this bestial need and quelling this unfathomable ache you have given me my wicked, wicked love.”   
Love- your breath hitched as you squirmed under his gaze, bare legs shifting as you fought to ignore the imagery he painted for you. 

“Why call me that?” The question caught him off guard, your voice betraying your emotions. You regretted asking the second you had changed from banter to something more personal, something deeper than base desire. “Why- why call me your love?” The words tumbled out with growing worry and panic. You’d accepted his suit, his bid for courtship- but to what end?   
“Why did you want to- I mean, why bother to court-“  
“Why ask to court you if you are mortal and therefor, going to die? Why court a woman who could never be my queen? Why court a woman who would be unable to give me heirs, to rule by my side, to be little more in the eyes of my people other than a brief dalliance in my otherwise long, and likely near immortal life?” He said it with a cruel despondence and air of casual flippancy. It hurt to hear him say it, the crus of it all, the truth of the matter. You nodded your head, facing away from him so as to not let him see the pain in your face, the trepidation in how you wanted there to be more but knew there couldn’t be yet foolishly you still wanted it all the same.

“I want to court you because I find myself not caring to the consequences.”   
Your heart was a jackhammer, (again and again, thundering inside you begging to just be free, to give in, to let go), and reason was the road. A pathway of sanity and logic slowly being broken down until likely, it would be reduced to a fine dust at the rate you felt yourself hoping that this wasn’t just some kind of fanciful lie, some passing infatuation.   
“Stop it Loki.” Your eyes were hot and wet, and you didn’t want him to see the pain, the desire. Not for sex, but for something more. This was just born of circumstance, had you and he been normal, you’d likely never pass a glance to one another. “Stop fooling yourself, foolish us both. You do care- or you’d not be trying so hard.”  
His hand in your hair made a tiny whimper leave you, a sound small and weak as you felt his gentle touch.   
“Allow me to rephrase then. We both know this pain of being alone here, we both crave a place. I have crafted mine, yet it suits me ill. You have yet to forge your own niche, and it chafes you to have nothing needed of you, wanted of you.” That sounded closer to the truth.  
“We want to be wanted for who we are, not what we are. Perhaps it is but a fleeting dalliance. Perhaps it is just a passing fancy and fascination and temptation to the exotic, the risk of danger.” His hand ran down your hair to land on your back soothing in it’s touch, sensual but not erotic. “Even if it is, why fight it? Why deny what we want? To whose benefit does denying this between us merit our suffering alone? If fucking you, romancing you, learning if perhaps, I do have a heart and if you have managed to take it; if it means I will find a measure of happiness I will take it my sweet one.” Loki sat himself by your feet.  
“I want to see what will come of this.”  
“And if it breaks my heart?” You shoot back, his words so honest and right- why deny it? For who? Because you were afraid of love? Of a possible future with him- uncertainty mired in perhaps, being a kept woman, a mortal mistress?  
“(Y/n).” His voice was bereft of it’s playful tones, replaced with a softness, and venerable tremor that made you want to cry. He knew- he knew your heart was breaking in it’s way. He wanted to love you, but knew full well he might not be able to. Even if he did, there was possibility of pain.   
“If I were to break your heart, you would survive that. I am no saint and no good man. I’m a liar god, a trickster and scion of chaos. I am the monster parents tell their children of at night. There is no one who would call me decent or suitable for any woman of virtue and goodness.” His hand cupped your chin forcing you to face him, tears silently running down your cheeks in shameful emotional pain expressed in a way you couldn’t speak.  
“Even so, I want to see what we might become, because even if we fall, you will still rise above it, you would survive whatever the consequences might be.” 

You chuckled in your tears. “That’s- damn it.” You pushed his hand away. “Damn your stupid silver tongue.”  
“One day you’ll damn it for other reasons I hope.”  
“You-!” You laughed a bit at his perverted quip. “You shouldn’t make me think I might have a chance. I’m human Loki. Mortal. Even if we fall in love- what awaits us then? I’m flattered you think I’m so mentally and emotionally strong, but let’s be realistic. Even if we were in love, I could never be with you.” Your hands played at the hem of your nightgown. Dressing for him seemed so silly now. Seduction of a god surrounded by actually goddesses. What a joke. “You’re a king and I-“  
“Would be a better queen than any woman of Asgard.” Loki finished your sentence, and not in a way you intended.  
“No Loki, please, be realistic I-“  
“Would you listen perhaps to me for once, I’m getting tired of tell you but I will do so again- Consequences be damned. I’ve lived in Asgard my whole life, and no woman has ever made me consider her worthy enough for me to marry. As King? Doubly so. Vapid, vain, egotistical, arrogant or utterly clueless, the women of Asgard bore me. _Asgard_ bores me. It’s a kingdom full of Gods and near immortals who lord over other realms from on high and think itself better even though we still have an archaic government that by all rights should have been dissolved generations ago. Asgardians are stagnate (y/n). They don’t have a care in the world and do not seek change.” He groused, huffing.  
“You- You’re mortal. Your life is fleeting but your kind, you seek challenges, you seek change, knowledge, you refuse to be stagnate. Do you know this game we play is a common enough one? One with certain steps many asgardians know to expect? You don’t know- and even if you did, _you wouldn’t follow them_. I am chaos, and what is chaos but change. You are the only one who understands this need, this craving to move, to be curious, to want to see change- I- I-“

He threw his hands in the air and he looked at a loss for words.  
“Any human could give you that-“  
“But how many would look at me and fight me like you?” He replies. “How many would play my games, and twist them on me? How many would entertain me and genuinely find enjoyment in it? How many would look at me, begging, at my most venerable, weakest state, and still embrace me?” You blushed. The memory of his blue cock in your mouth filling your head.

“How many would want to see the monster, and still desire the man underneath?” You stare at him, uncertain if you want to go forward. You could still back out. You both could end the courtship, end the game. End it all- but then… Then you’d never know what could become of it. What might have been. The risk and the reward were heavy but was it worth it? Was a life, however short, worth having it shared with him?   
“Loki.” You reached out, cupping his face.  
“Kiss me.” His expression was shock then- a gentle smile. A happy smile you realized. You both wanted this. You were both afraid yet you couldn’t let it stop you. Loki had realized it first- and now you knew he was right. Maybe it would happen, you would be in love. Maybe not- but unless you tried you’d never know. Consequences be damned. You wanted love. You wanted him. You wanted to try.

“If I kiss you-“ His lips hovered by your own. “-There is no going back from tonight. I will court you. Romance you. I will learn all I can of you and your heart.”  
“And if we are in love- will you trust me? No lies? No secrets?” He laughed, full, bright and so full of joy. “If I love you- then yes.” He kissed you, soft, promising. “If my love is true, I will not lie to you.”   
You giggled, kissing him again.  
“Don’t rhyme like that, its not your style.” He scoffed as if you’d said something offensive.  
“I am known as silver tongue. That means more than lies and oral sex you know.”  
“Should I expect couplets or stanzas?”  
“Will that make your heart flutter for me? Perhaps I should begin them just to see?”  
“Stop.” You snorted your laugh as Loki’s eyes twinkled in mischief.   
“My fair love, burning wildfire. Your trepidation only serves my ire. My lust has met my heart and it has given this new love it’s start. Let me kiss you again, to taste Valhalla. For with my silvertongue I will outdo all other men, let me bid for your heart so love we might obtain.”  
You laughed as Loki made a poem on the spot, clever and lyrical.   
“You’re terrible!”  
“Not as terrible as this nightgown. Really. I come here with plans to ravish you, and promises of seeing you wearing my token and nothing else-“  
“I never said it would be just your necklace.”  
“-And I see you in this ugly thing.”

Your lips pecked his, hands ghosting down his sides.   
“Perhaps, I do you a favor and take it off.”  
“Oh?” His hands brushed over your ankles. Threateningly close to your feet.   
“Only if you give me another kiss.”   
His kiss is slow and tender, a lover’s kiss as he made no move to remove the gown.  
“You trade your affections too freely my lady.”  
“And you talk to much.” You leaned in to kiss him again, only to find empty air.   
“Your feet-“ Your eyes widened as he asked for another part of you, and you wanted to scream. You wanted to kiss him, to lay back and feel him next to you and to touch him and hold him and feel his hands on you but- fuck this stupid, stupid game and the fact you wanted to give in but your pride refused to allow it.   
“No.” You tucked your feet under you in childish defiance. A thing that made him pout. “For my feet-“ You wanted to get a bit of leverage, “Teach me magic.” Loki’s face went slack. Shock and wonder in him as you realized perhaps, you’d asked too much.  
“I mean, if it’s possible to. I don’t know if humans can but I mean it seems-“  
“Oh, dearest.” Loki’s tone was low, gravely, hungry. “You most definitely can do magic with the proper tutor. But if I agree-“ His tongue peaked out, wetting his lips. “You will abide by my rules in our lessons, is that understood?”   
You swallowed. Fear mixed with lust in a heavy cloud that swirled inside your mind.   
“Nothing beyond what I’m comfortable with.”  
“Agreeable.”  
“And no sex magic.” He laughed.   
“Darling, sex **is** magic. But nothing… to forward.” It was as close to an agreement you’d get.  
“Deal.”

Loki’s hand ran under the gown in a snap, yanking a foot free with a squeal of shock from you. “Take pleasure (y/n).” He said, grinning. “You’re the first woman I will have ever done this for.”

A kiss. A kiss on the top of your foot. Nothing sexual, nothing sensual, but rather a kiss of promise. Symbolism wasn’t lost on you as he looked up at you, the playful smirk on his lips, the warm affectionate glow of his eyes.   
“I-“ You wanted to push him away, laugh at the absurdity of it all. But you couldn’t. Because odd and strange as it was, this was what you both needed- this was what you both were.   
“That’s a good look for you your majesty.”  
“I try.” He kissed your foot again, slowly making his way up your calf, peppering your skin with his affection. Each inch of skin he was given was another inch he’d begun to worship, lifting you foot to expose more and more of your bare leg. The nightgown began to ride up and when he reached you knee, you saw his gaze drift to you away.

Playtime had ended. Seduction had begun.

“I think-“ His breath was colder and your shivered from the sudden change in temperature. “-That gown has to go.” The movement was swift and sudden, the cold metal brushing you skin yet leaving no mark. As soon as your brain registered his movement, the dagger was being twirled in front of you, gown slashed up the front, exposing your lacy under things to the hungry eyes of a lusting god.  
“Oh pet.” The low groan and tremor in him sent a flood of desire between your thighs, where already your sex had dampened the thin covering that hid your pussy from view. “You are the image of sin.”

You gasped as Loki nudged your thighs apart, kissing the inside of your knee before moving so he could rest between your legs. His eyes were no longer bright and shining, now they were dark, wanting, terrifying. He was an expressive man who knew just when to let others see his bare emotions and use it as a weapon like any other.  
The azure hue was unnoticed when it started, but as Loki licked your inner thighs in slow circles, drawing ever closer to the apex, to your heated core, you felt the chill. The pleasant cool touch from before. Only when the hard unyielding curve of one of his horns brushed you leg did you cease moaning and look down to him.   
Red eyes, blue skin, black teeth and nails. Hair of midnight, markings of a man and monster in one.   
“Oh fuck-“  
“That’s the second time you’ve cursed at seeing my true form love.” He said, nipping at a particular spot just a handspan away from your pulsing cunt. “Yet, I think you enjoy me ravishing you as a beast.”  
“God yes.” You shook as he kissed and sucked and licked more of your soft tender skin. You couldn’t look at him, the image of Loki between your thighs with barely anything covering you too much- if you watched, you’d come undone. 

It felt like an eternity as he tormented you with his touch. Your thighs covered in pink marks of his passion before he lowered his body, rubbing your calves with his horns, leaving him shuddering before he’d nip and push at the muscles there. Your feet were the worst. You didn’t think he’d do much, but you were so terribly wrong.

Like when he claimed your back, Loki worked the stress from you, massaging your feet until you melted into the chaise for him, relaxed and blissed.   
“You have walked too much.” He said, placing a tiny kiss on your ankle. “I won’t have you covering your tender skin in rough callouses.” He murmured. It was a sweet sentiment but-  
“I would rather stand on my feet than be carried.” He chuckled against your skin, rough raised lines causing the most pleasing sensation as they rubbed against you.   
“Hm, true, seeing your luscious little ass swaying back and forth is always a tempting sight. That slight bounce that makes your breasts jiggle, the way you move with confidence, the air of playful passion- I suppose you may walk on occasion.” His teeth nipped at your toe. “Provided it is to me or my chambers.”

You blushed, the inhuman face of the jotun man currently seducing you proving to be a bit much for your senses.   
“I- AH!” His thumbs pressed into a spot on your foot, a pure pleasure jolted up your spine. A tiny orgasm had you thrusting up your hips, pussy clenching on nothing as your thong was utterly soaked in evidence of your arousal and small release.  
“What in God’s name-“ Yours words die as Loki repeated the action, making you cry out and shake, the buzz of aftershock from the sudden orgasm robbing your mind.  
“My pet; My sweet, delicate, innocent mortal.” He crooned. “So responsive, so sensitive. Do you know why gods lay with mortal women?” He purred, licking one long line from ankle to knee. “Your kind are pliant for us. You can come again and again under us, worshiping us through your sweet cries and submission. Your bodies are welcoming, made to fit a god’s cock, your wombs receptive to our seed. Your lips beg us to silence them with our lust, answering your prayers of pleasure and passion. Mortal women are not made for mortal men. No, you are made to be worshiped by them, offered to gods, who would embrace you and give you the things you crave, the things you were made for.”

Sexist, racist, utterly douched words were nothing more than dark promise. A game of forbidden lust and ancient delights of carnal embrace.

“And you my wildfire, were made to be loved by a King.”

Thumbs pressed to your thighs, Loki lifted your hips putting your legs over his shoulders, setting himself squarely in front of your soaked cunt. You were too aroused to be embarrassed, the spot damp with slick, your thighs rubbing his horns as you squirmed in his hold. His groan was loud as he kept speaking.  
“I can smell you- that honey nectar, your feminine cream. So much just from my touch, my words. I have craved it since the night you granted me a taste. Dreamed of burying my face here, drinking down your untainted juices, gorging myself on your essence until I might drown. I want to taste you, feel the softness of your sex against my tongue, the heat as I would dive in, sucking away each drop you’d give me as it is ambrosia. Let me taste you my love.”   
You gasped, looking down once more, Loki fixed not at your gushing pussy, but your face.   
“Let me eat up your juicy quim; Let me sate this hunger with the feast before me.” 

God you wanted to, you wanted to have him eat you out, fuck yourself on his face. But it would have been too much, too soon. He couldn’t- be he also could.  
“Loki-“ You sighed, relaxing a best you were able. “No. You can’t, you aren’t worthy of it.” You knew it would stoke his rage, passionate and wild as it was.  
“But I’m not cruel- you can take it off.” His eyes fluttered as you reached down, fingers stroking a horn.  
“You can taste my cunt from my panties, and eat in the sight of what you do to me.” You rubbing the horn, experimentally. Loki’s low moan answered you.

You knew what you planned.  
“Take it off Loki.” His hands at your hips, nails tugged on thin straps of cloth. “Take it off, my king.”

A snap, and he pulled the black fabric away, pressing it to his lips and you watched, lost in awe and fascination as he sucked the evidence of your desire from the fabric, licking away the sticky fluid like he needed it to live.   
“Heaven.” He moaned as the cloth was pulled from his face, wet now only from saliva and your lingering musk. “Food for the Gods.”  
You reached down with a hand, eyes staying locked on his face, the way his eyes roamed your bare chest before sliding to your newly bare sex.   
“No my king.” You moaned, touching your clit just barely and feeling the spike of pleasure. “Just one God. My God.” You rubbed the tiny bundle of nerves, moaning his name. “Just you- only you. Loki- Loki, Loki Loki-“ Your rubbed your clit with enthusiasm, looking down at him as he stared, lust and hunger so raw in his face.   
“Look at what you’ve done to me.” You spread yourself for him, pink lips wet and glistening in the open air, clit red and swollen with need. “I hate you-“

“You’re perfect.” The words left his lips as Loki reached down, touching himself. “Norns, I could love you.” He was panting, and you realized you wanted him to come. You wanted to see him come for you again. “My beautiful wildfire.”   
You wanted him to come on you, see yourself covered in his spend, let him mark your skin, see his seed on your flesh and know you wanted it there. You wanted to make him come and be denied the pleasure of release inside you. 

You lifted your slick soaked fingers gasping as your lover greedily took them into his mouth, sucking away all evidence of your need for him. You moved with him, sitting legs spread to either side of him, his own pose one of crossed legs, his clothing abandoned in the movements, lost on the floor. Naked, entirely, Loki was every inch an alien king, an alien god. His cock stood, frim and erect between you, pre-cum beading at the tip only to be brushed away by your thumb and brought to your lips in a taste.  
Salty, heady desire. You moaned loudly for him, smiling as Loki tugged you closer, your bare sex nearly touching his own.  
“Shall I fuck you? Fill you up, having you bounce on my cock and ride me to your completion?” You grinned, grabbing his horns and pulling. The shout of pained pleasure echoed in your ears as Loki’s hips bucked cock hitting you bare stomach.   
“No- I want to have you cum on me. I want you to fuck your fist and show me how much you want me.” You rubbed a horn, gliding your hand over the hard bone. Loki’s shudder was obvious. “While I worship the crown of my king.” You kissed it, Loki gasped you name.  
Had any past lover done this with him? For him? Had he even known he was sensitive there? You didn’t know or particularly care. Yet you did know he enjoyed it. So you’d keep going, not stopping until you felt cold cum on your skin. 

You kissed each inch you could reach, stroking up and down the rough coarse edges and smooth patches of his horns while Loki moaned under you, his hand fisted around his cock. Kitten licks had shivers from his body, scrapes of teeth drawing gasps as the sound of his handjob grew louder and more obscene. When you sucked, he groaned and panted, one hand stroked a horn while the other you traced his name on the bone with your tongue. Lifting up, you fisted them in tandem, lowing yourself to hover your pussy right about his cock.  
“Loki-“ You moaned, “please-“

He shouted, cool cum splattering over your belly, some hitting your bare breasts. You hips pulled back to deny him last second, you gasped as the feeling of his spend hit your skin. You wanted to draw it out, and with a wild enthusiasm, you rubbing his horns as if they were his cock.

Loki roared, bucking his hips wilding in the air as his cock continued to release short jettisons of seed onto you. You laughed in delight as your lover lost himself to the pleasure, and after a minute, his whimper signaled he’d no more to give. His face was a mix or agony and delight. Pain and pleasure. Eyes closed, you let his horns go, sliding down and leaning back to relax into the chaise again. 

Trails of white covered you, and when Loki caught his breath, his Asgardian self returning you grinned.   
“Look at me.” You purred. No orgasm for you, but you were on cloud nine all the same. Loki was your lover- and you’d given him his due release.   
“You’re a filthy, depraved monster you know that?” Fingers reached to your breast, swirling cold cum over a nipple. “You almost had me.” You brought the sticky digit to your lips, moaning at the taste. God, you wanted more. 

“But not yet.”

Rubbing your tit you massaged the cum into your skin as if it were a lotion, a sheen of slick and sticky musk to cover you. “You can’t cum inside me with your cock yet.” Your free hand ran down your body, gathering his seed along the way. “Your cock isn’t worthy of being inside me again. Of filling me up.” He watched, hungry as your cum soaked hand parted you pussy lips.  
“But I want it all the same.”

You gasped as you pushed your cum soaked finger inside of you, knowing you’d done something utterly risky, utterly depraved. You began to fuck yourself with cum soaked fingers, occasionally pulling them out to grab more of his seed to push into your hole. Loki watched it all, transfixed, mouth open, gasping and panting in his afterglow.  
“Fuck I want your cock.” You moaned, rubbing your clit a little harder, unable to properly reach the spot inside you.

Loki’s smirk and dark chuckle drew you back as he leaned forward, kissing you before he whispered.  
“What if I could give you my cock, without it being me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's my birthday tomorrow so today you get the update. YEAH BOIS.


	11. Toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter where you get to be assertive.

Bathed in the afterglow of sexual domination, you stared down at Loki, still half erect, and still looking at you like a man starved. He was the picture of sexual rapture, hair a mess, sweat beading on his skin and running down his neck, eye frantic and wide, blown pupils that were fixed on the source of his heated lust. You, a woman who’s made a god beg and denied him from the simple fact you could. A god at the whim and will of a mortal woman. His words echoed- Mortal women were not made for mortal men, they were made to be loved by the gods. 

And Loki, even lusting, looked and held you up like a lover would; soft, tender, and careful of his hold. 

“You said-“ You gasped, grabbing his shoulders and slowly lowering yourself down, purposely brushing your soaking wet pussy against his cock. The closest to sex you’d ever been. You had done wicked, dangerous things though. Commanded him, taken him into your mouth, pushed his seed into your very body- Loki was many things, and you knew he was vengeful and would be for your denial- yet how he would enact his revenge on your actions you craved to know.   
“You said you can fuck me without it being your cock?” You knew some people got off on being cuckholded- but you were disinclined to have sex with someone else. Much less some stranger. So what he meant was a mystery. 

But the mystery was one he would solve for you, if just because he and you both knew that come morning, there might very well be regret for this. There very well might be fear for moving so quickly, the courtly rumors running wild and the palace would be abuzz with news of his courtship of you and your public kiss and affirmation. Loki had women who sought his favor, this was a simple fact and something you expected given his title as king. Yet he spurned them, now, he’d chosen to court you, a mortal who he was supposed to be helping return to her world. A conflict of interests- and also an irony given the man had his pick of far more ‘fitting’ women.  
A small part of you took perverse delight in knowing you managed to get a king’s interests over those of actual goddesses.   
“Mhm..” He hummed, licking his lips and laying you back on the soft chaise pillows, eyes roaming your naked form.   
“I thought to save it for a later date, a gift for once we had… progressed in our courtship. Yet perhaps it is better to provide it now.” His words held that touch of arrogance you loathed and loved, as his golden magic swirled just outside of the corner of your eyes.

A turn of your head and you gasped at what you saw on the table in front of you.  
A dildo. Not just any dildo however. A perfect replica of Loki’s thick jotun cock- the same shade of blue, the right blush of dark violet, and each vein and sinful bump perfectly formed in mimicry of the real thing. Your blush was tenfold worse when you realized the implication- he’d had it made before accepting the courtship. So even had you not said yes, he fully well intended to seduce you at the least. The bastard was too cocky and sure of himself for his own good.   
The dildo itself was impressive, and you considered it for a moment. It looks like a softer silicone, and you debated how well it would satisfy you. You fingers certainly did not go that deep, and you had to admit, you liked the idea of being stretched over a man like him- 

“You’re absolutely terrible.” You hissed, slapping his shoulder with a small bit of rage. His arrogance was not so much charming as annoying. He had been right and was right. The idea of masturbating on a replica dildo fashioned after his cock was thrilling and exciting to say the least.   
His laughed was rich and pure, joyful in how it shook his shoulders and made him hold you a little bit tighter, as if he feared letting you go.  
“Darling, if you didn’t know then, you certainly should have known by now. I am mischief after all.” Your scowl only served to make him smile, satisfied for having gotten under your skin. “Besides, if not for you to use, I certainly planned to tease you with it.” His lips came up, brushing over your neck as you refused to kiss him, eyes avoiding the blue toy not far off.

“So-“ You kept ignoring Loki’s insistent touches and the way his hands soothingly rubbed you back. ”What do you propose? That I use a substitute until I see fit to seek out the real thing?” His hum was a soft answer and you wanted words, not sounds.   
“Loki! Answer me- what do you-“  
“I want to see you slip my cock inside you.” The dark, hungry tone came, deep and rumbling from his chest. You could feel the vibrations, your own breasts pushed to his front as you remained straddling him. “See your sweet lips part in sinful kiss as you take me into your most sacred of places. Watching as you embrace me, take me, it would sooth my burning need with the vision of you enjoying my gift, the offering I bring. Filling you without filling you, kissing your deepest parts I long to touch. To know that even if I cannot bare witness, I might satisfy you, give you pleasure even when you are alone. I would dream of you like this, a woman taking her pleasures from what has come from me. Your face the expression of heated lust and satisfaction- and knowing that perhaps one day you will take my truth and let me kiss your core, rather than satisfy your needs with mocking lie.”

You were torn between slapping him or kissing him if just to shut his silver tongue up.   
“Bastard.” You hissed, choosing to rather drag his head down and kiss him with as much pent up lust as you could muster. Tongues and teeth, Loki moaned into your mouth as you tasted his lips, while your hands roamed in his hair, quickly becoming tangled from your wild abandon.   
“Laufey’s bastard yes, but still rightful king.” His cheeky grin was accented with a playful slap to you rear and you yelped. It didn’t hurt but it did brush your aching wet cunt across his bare cock. And that itself made you almost give in. Each touch so close yet so distant was a crack in your resolve to not fuck him. Not take him in such a way and provide him that deep satisfaction.   
“You touched my ass!” You realized, dildo forgotten.  
“So I did. What would you like in exchange?” He was being exceptionally cheeky you realized. In fact, he was being down right…. Mischievous.   
You laughed at his antics, rolling your hips once again to torment you both. God you wanted him. You hardly knew him well, you couldn’t blindly and faithlessly trust him and your lust was build on mutual longing for something neither of you would have. It was a relationship build on a house of cards. Ready to topple at a moment’s notice from the fragility of your situation, from your mutual angst.   
Yet still, you wanted him.

“I want-“ You wondered- “I want you to take me somewhere.” Loki’s eye were alight in playful joy.   
“Where my sweet songbird, my tempest, tell me where I should spirit us away from prying eyes as to seduce you further?” You laughed more at his flowery words, enjoying it all the same.  
“Surprise me. Make me forget that I’m trapped.” You whispered reaching up to run your fingers through tangled black strands of hair. “I want to get out of the palace, the city- take me somewhere new.”  
His features softened and Loki kissed you sweetly, lips pushing yet not insistent as he took his time to speak without words. His silver tongue working in his favor in other ways. As the kiss ended, his hands roamed down your legs to disentangle himself from you.  
“So I shall my dearest. But, I must confess, have I satisfied you this night? I fear I have no desire to leave until I know my lady is pleased with me and my… tokens.”  
Your snort was coupled with a smile. “Alright Casanova. You really are that horny for me to fuck myself on your cock?” The way his adam’s apple bobed when he swallowed should not have been as attractive as it was.  
“Give it to me, and tell me all the wicked dirty things you’d do to me.”

The blue toy was handed to you and the texture- nothing could have readied you for it. It was so lifelike, a replica no doubt enhanced by his magic to feel so real.   
“You- what did you do Loki?” You accused him, catching his gleeful smile.  
“A little enchantment. It will feel like my actual flesh and react in a manner that is akin to how I might react t- GOD!”  
You made a wild guess by the way he had been so proud and well, he was a master at magic. To enchant a dildo to share the sensation with his own cock seemed like a stretch but as Loki’s hips bucked into the air as you gave a rather strong suck to the toy’s bulbous head, you figured your guess had been right.  
“Mmm,” You moaned, thinking back to his salty, creamy taste the first time you and he had been intimate. “So I was right, whatever I do to this toy-“ You licked the shaft, enjoying the way Loki shuddered, the veins on his neck bulging from his attempts at control “-You’ll feel too?”  
His gasp was followed with a fierce nod. “Whatever pleasing touch you give to it I shall share-“  
“Fuck me without it being you cock hmm?” You didn’t want to let him off so easily, you wanted Loki to writhe worse than ever before. In fact, you wanted the man a spent mess. He might have been a god, but you were a horny woman who had been given a very powerful tool over the man who wanted to dominate you.

It felt so sinfully good to dominate him right back.   
“Your devious bastard. You planned to give this to me and not tell me didn’t you?” You pouted and he had the gall to smirk, even while half collapsed on the other end of the chaise.   
“Can you blame me? The thrill of it all, to have you use it, sending pleasure to my loins at any given moment? Oh love, the risk-“  
“You’re depraved.” You wanted to be angry, upset even but the way he smiled, the way he was laughing at the sheer audacity of it all.

“God I hate you.” You hissed at him laying back and getting comfortable enough to provide him a show.  
“I love you as well my wildfire.” His head rolled as he languidly stood to sit across the room, seating himself down and watching you with hungry eyes.  
“Permission to touch myself whist you touch me? I very much want to watch as you debauch yourself on my… gift.” You smiled, licking the toy again just to watch his body react. The muscles in his abdomen flexed in time with each faint touch you administered to the toy. This was certainly something you’d make Loki come to regret.  
“Your cock isn’t a gift Loki.” You lowered it to you pussy, rubbing it up and down the soaked slit, the feeling of mock flesh so close to the real thing making it all the harder to dismiss how good the real thing might feel. Loki’s own reaction was a sight in and of itself. Lips parted in desire, his cock throbbing in open air while he held himself in his seat, hips shaking as he resisted movement.  
“Your cock is the worst thing about you.” Slowly, you let the tip of the toy catch against you hole pushing gently to breach you, teasing yourself with near penetration, relishing in the way sweat beaded on Loki’s body as he was subjected to feel phantom pleasure and watch you without being able to touch you.   
“The worst?” His voice hitched with a breath, the toy pressing dangerously firm to your entrance.  
“Because it’s perfect.” You worked the toy into you, moaning as you felt the slow stretch of you walls around it, tight yet giving, fluttering around the cool intrusion that throbbed and twitched from Loki’s enchantment.

Across the room, Loki’s hand was at his cock, grabbing the base, holding back his own orgasm as pre come ran down his shaft in glistening trails. You wanted to crawl over to him, his toy buried in you cunt, crawl over and take him into your mouth. Fuck yourself at both ends with him until he came and you were left covered in his spend. Debauched he called you. The man had no idea the depraved things you wished you could do, wanted to do. But you couldn’t, not yet. The game was still so young and fresh now that you’d elevated it. 

As the toy nestled itself in your folds, gently throbbing and occasionally twitching you smiled at Loki, licking you lips and making a show of touching your breasts. His name left you like a prayer, hips rocking up into the empty air in a mockery of sex. A hand slipped down to the toy, gently thrusting it in and out, moaning in delight as the markings of the jotun replica stimulated your in ways no man from earth ever could. You worked his cock to your pleasure, leisurely letting it fill you only to slowly glide it out until all that remain inside was the tip just to sink it back in. You worked your self on it like a whore, unashamed as the man across the room took his pleasure from you, the magic, the sight of your body giving into your carnal want. 

Loki was being given a feast indeed, and each morsel you offered he drank and devoured with lusting relish. 

You looked truly like a goddess to him. Skin glowing unlike the ethereal aesir, but with passion. Your lips open and red from his kisses. Skin pink were the heat of your blood came so close to the surface. Knee bent, legs parted, breasts softly bouncing with each thrust of the toy that was buried between your soft thighs. And you quim- soaking wet, pink fold wrapped around a blue mockery of himself, a prelude to his dream made real. A fantasy he hoped to shape to reality. The one thing that threatened to make him come apart however was your voice- so soft and adoring, it was his name in your sweet tones that sent him hurtling to the edge of orgasm, your eyes fixed with his in matched lust and desire.  
A woman who could match a trickster.  
A woman who challenged him.  
A woman worthy to make a queen if she so wanted it.

The though, unbidden, should have scared him. The notion of a mortal queen. Yet in the moment he didn’t care. All he wanted was to see you come undone, see you cry out and take your release upon his toy, allow him to feel the phantom embrace of your most sacred place, granting him a taste of Valhalla. Each thrust he could feel your tight walls fluttering around him, the warmth of you countering the coolness of his own flesh. He wanted to be inside you, to be the one to feel your slick heat, not his toy. He would bury himself to the hilt, reach his peak and sink into you until there was nothing left, no where for his seed to go but into your very womb. He didn’t care if he sired a child or not. He wanted to mark you, inside and out. You’d taken his seed now, twice. Once between your sweet lips, and once from your fingers into your waited heat. 

He would mark you like a beast, since even as a beast you seemed to lust for him.

Your breathing began to heighten, your body rocked faster as your pleasure began to build. Loki’s stare was your undoing. He was unyielding, refusing to look away from the sight of you. You never thought you’d enjoy being watched like this. So intimately, to be witnessed while doing something so filthy, so carnal and obscene. Yet here you were, fucking yourself on the replica dick of the would be God-King, a trickster deity who ruled a realm he hadn’t even been born into. 

You screamed his name as your orgasm peaked, his toy deep inside you, throbbing as you rode out your pleasure, eye closed as you imagined it was him, fucking you into abandon, into wild nirvana. When you opened your eyes, Loki remained across the room in his seat. White decorated his chest and thighs. His hair a mess, sweat on his pale skin, eyes wild and focused wholly on you.  
A dark god slave to a wild lust- a lust for the mortal woman he could not touch.

You pulled the toy from you, thin strands of your slick clinging like threads of fate. You cut them with distance, licking your used toy clean as your lover moaned and slouched from across the way.

“Loki.” You smiled as you relaxed into the chaise, hand open, beckoning.  
“Kiss me?” His expression softened, as while it took him a moment to rise, he did as you bade closing the distance between you both with a few purpose filled strides.  
“I want your lips my wildfire. I want to taste them, claim them, own them as you own me.” You laughed, kissing him softly as he bent down. No domination, a gentle kiss.   
A lover’s kiss.  
“I don’t want to own you.” You whispered. No, owning, dominating, you liked it, but it wasn’t entirely what you wanted. You couldn’t tell him what you wanted. He already knew. You wanted a place to belong. 

For now, naked, sexual sated and being languidly massaged by your lover, it felt like belonging enough.


	12. Glimpse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is left alone, and something changes under the surface

There was a giddy feeling in your chest. The sort of butterflies in your stomach that came with fearful excitement and a fondest you didn’t want to voice. It was odd to say the least, to wake up in your bed and just feel free. Freer than you had in weeks. Than you had since being pulled into Asgard and thrust into a situation you had so little control over. Part of you knew why. Evidence of it was hanging off a stand on your vanity, gold and glittering in the pale orange of the morning sun. The other reason was in your bedside dresser, likely soft and perhaps mailable whist it’s creator slept across the palace. 

You didn’t want to say you forgave Loki for his cruel actions or his sharp behaviors, but- you’d grown fond of him. He was good in his own way, not entirely conventionally by any means, but he was a decent ruler, a well-intentioned sort of man if very well a known narcist. You wanted to hope that perhaps, in time, his self-grandeur might temper but-  
Who’s to say? The man was mercurial as any fickle god was to be, and as a mortal woman you’d fallen for his charm; a tempted lover you now were. 

You smiled in the morning sunlight, thinking how to keep the god on his toes and perhaps realizing that giving you what he did was not always in his best interest. Getting up, locking your bedroom doors so to prevent Lys from disrupting you, you pulled out the blue cock and grinned as the soft mock flesh twitched with your handling.  
You might be a mortal woman, but you certainly were not about to become a god’s plaything or taken lightly in the game the two of you played.

When you saw Loki at breakfast, he looked ready to murder. Green eyes sharply focused on everyone his gaze shot to you the second you entered the room and made you way to you seat. Your pussy still throbbed from the impromptu masturbation session, and you almost regret it, if it hadn’t been for the fact that in knowing Loki felt everything the mock cock did- you were quite sure that with your actions he likely hadn’t gained a release from the stimulation. After all, shoving a toy inside then rubbing your clit to completion might have done it for you, it probably wasn’t enough for him.

Smiling sweetly, you sat down, filling your plate with the usual as Loki scowled at your lack of greeting. For a pair supposedly courting, you no doubt looked like a rather angry couple on the outs.   
“Your highness-“ one of the noblemen broke the silence, nodding his head politely at the silently brooding regent. “-My congratulations on winning the fair maiden’s favor. Many of us thought the pair of you’d not progress past playful teasing.” It was perhaps, supposed to be a kind hearted joke, but looking at the older man, you got the idea he wasn’t one of those who thought of you as much more than a temporary diversion.   
Loki apparently also thought as much.  
“I can assure you Brom, I did not win anything. Her favor is not something to be won, it is something one must earn.” Smooth talking bastard was right and you hated the fact he’d just burned the old dude while also flattering you. Silver tongued fucker.  
“You did win something Loki.” You figure you might as well be a contradictory bitch, if just to try and fend off the fact that you disliked how easily Loki made the fluttering feeling in your stomach rise up whenever he spoke well of you. You would not give into feelings so easily damn it!  
“You did win a kiss from me last night.” You smile, biting into a slice of melon, Loki’s own expression softening as he smirked.   
“I endeavor to win only my stay in your good graces. And perhaps another kiss should you think I worthy of it.” Oh, he was setting himself up and you both knew it. The Asgardians at the table watched from the corners of their eyes. HBO in real time, that’s what you and Loki had become and honestly, if they had any idea what you both had done behind closed doors you’re pretty sure they’d lose their fucking minds.  
“We can discuss your worthiness over dinner I think. For today, we both have work to do don’t we? I mean, I do have a few weeks of studying to catch up on, and no doubt you have some kingly duties to see to.” Loki’s eyes practically sparkled with the invitation. You still wished to take lessons in Asgardian, and, you wanted to dine with him. You also hadn’t jabbed at his worthy remark.

Progress in your relationship was still progress.

When it came time to go to the library to study and resume your lessons, Lys dutifully behind you, smiling yet saying nothing of your renewed mood and demeanor, you both frowned as you heard voices coming from the lower level.   
“-honestly, has she no class?”  
“-None, she’s from Midgard. What did you expect? Thor had his dalliance now Loki’s having his.“   
“-How long has he chased her now? Two months? She’s nearly in his bed with how she acts. Once he’s had her, he’ll resume courting us as before.”  
“Do you think she has a chance?”  
“Why would she? She’s mortal. By the time he’s ready for an heir, she’ll be grey and dried up. Plus, once Amora is caught, she’s going back to her realm. He just wants to fuck her so he can gloat to Thor that he’s not the only royal to have had a mortal thrall.”

Lys’s red face is full of embarrassed rage, and you-  
You just feel empty.

It’s not that they’re entirely wrong. You and Loki hadn’t really discussed it in depth. Just sort of… on the fly. Yet you both had been honest and open. You knew the risks, the chance that it would be just a fling, a blip of time. Yet to hear others so openly speaking about it hurt. Fuck, it hurt more than it should have. Yet felt the hot burn of shame and embarrassment as you chose to look over the banister to see who was speaking and you wished you hadn’t. The women were absolutely gorgeous. Real goddesses. Loki might call you one behind closed doors but these were real Asgardian goddesses no doubt.

They were right. In the end, time would win out, and Loki would likely return to courting them. Lys remained quite beside you, her expression a mix of anger and remorse. She couldn’t speak ill of other nobility, and her own demure nature wasn’t one to confront the women below.

“Pain doesn’t suit you my sweet songbird.” Loki’s voice ghosted behind you, his breath cool on your ear before you jumped in alarm. The bastard had snuck up on you and Lys both. Lys to her credit though, didn’t squeal like you did.  
“Loki! For the love of god don’t scare me like that-“  
“For my love?” He smirked as you realized the gravity of your words.   
“Oh don’t you dare-“  
“If it is by my love that I should not scare you, I’m afraid I cannot. I do love your shrieks of alarm and the look of shock when I startle you. But enough of that- you shouldn’t listen to the shrill voices of crows.” Green eyes flickered to the floor below, the women suddenly quiet. “You recall our conversation do you not?”  
You nod, even though it feels like a hollow thing. “I do but-“  
“But nothing dearest. This is our path. Our choice. If you keep doubting me, just remember-“ He leaned down, a wicked gleam in his eyes.   
“-I am a god of chaos, and what we feel for one another is the very chaos I crave. You are what I should not want but I do. I am what you should fear yet you lust for. You are a wildfire of passion and desire- my muse given flesh. They are nothing but ornamental statues in a garden, while you are the fire that would burn it all to the ground.” Your breath hitches on his words- poetry and flattery, you don’t even realize Lys has excused herself as you feel your body lean into Loki.

He’s a liesmith, a trickster, a silver tongued snake. A god of mischief, he delights in trickery and discord.

“I suppose love is chaotic.” You manage to answer him, lips dry from the sudden awareness you feel. Loki is dangerous not because of his power, but his allure. The fact he knows he is tempting, and the fact he knows you both relish this risk of lust and passion with the chance reward of love.  
“Would you wish me anything but in my affections?” His gaze is heavy with promise, and you take a breath to ground yourself. You came for lessons, not sexual tension.  
“No.” You breath out, steeling your resolve. It won’t do for you to turn into a puddle of simpering needy goo on the library floor. “It’s the same way I know how you secretly loved the fact I fucked myself on that fat cock you gave me last night.”

His eyes widen and you smirk, ducking out of his personal space to drift into the room you had left for two weeks prior, lessons unfinished.   
“Now, shall we resume where we left off? I haven’t been slacking, but, I could certainly do for a refresher.” His laughter is bright and loud in the otherwise silent book filled chambers, and as he shuts the door, there is a softness in his face, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes betraying his mirth.  
“Alright darling. Now- Let’s begin with conjugations.”

The lessons resume, and each day that passes you feel not a sense of renewed hope in returning to earth but rather a sense of peace. It might not be so bad to be stuck on Asgard. Loki is.. Loki. Playful and teasing, his wit sometimes barbed but often gentle in his trickery and renowned mischief. His version of courting, as you learn, is something else entirely.  
Mostly, as it involved pranks.   
Pranks such as, but not limited to recoloring all your clothes to various shades of green, (again), making your drink turn to mead at any opportunity, having birds magically appear whenever you entered a room, musically announcing whenever you entered a room with ‘(Y/N) of Midgard, Guest of the crown, favored of King Loki, fairest maiden in all the nine, utterly wonderous in her ethereal beauty’ (which was so absolutely ridiculous), having your hair change color with your mood, fake magical fire trailing after each step you took- Loki had gone all out with his various charms and enchantments, teasing you with each spell he cast.

The thing that kept nagging you however, was his silence on the Amora situation. Now reaching the 3 month mark, Loki had remained vague each time you enquired about the sorceress, and Thor hadn’t visited since delivering the news of your family’s death. 

Something that still made your chest hurt and ache with sorrow.

What also bothered you was Loki’s strange… retreat in his sexual pursuit of you. Not for a lack of desire you were sure, the man eye fucked you daily and made more than ample remarks of things he’d like to do to you in bed. Yet he’d not pushed for more than his typical request- that when you sought relief, to bring yourself to completion upon his gift, and cry out his name when you came on his blue cock.   
There was also the matter of his promises- to teach you magic and to take you on a trip. Neither had come to pass. And while you were now somewhat able to read basic Asgardian, you felt like the lessons had also become a bit of a secondary thought to the man who professed his desire to court you with the intention to explore the unique connection and bond you shared.

It was unsettling, even if he’d not exactly pulled his attentions from you.

“I- I just don’t understand it Lys.” You bemoaned to your handmaiden as the pair of you went over Asgardian fashion trends in your parlor. “I mean- is he satisfied now that I’m fucking myself and getting off on him? Does he just not care anymore?”  
Lys knew about the dildo. Mostly, as she’d come across it and screamed when she’d found it before you’d explained to her the events leading to your possession of a magically enchanted phallus.   
“I doubt it miss. His majesty has a lot to worry about now that court will be resuming. Not to mention the delegates from Vanaheim are pressing him to ah-“ She shifted, holding up the small embroidery she’d been working on, (a gift for her lover no doubt). “The rumor is he’s being pressured to accept a noble woman as a guest in the hopes he will take a fancy to her.”  
“She’s not named Sigyn is she?” Lys snorted at the question. You and her had a small running joke- that if you ever met the fabled Sigyn of myth, you’d step aside for the fated bride of Loki.   
“No, she’s not. Loki has refused just so you know, citing his courtship of you and the fact that Asgard and Vanaheim already have a peace treaty with the past union on Odin and Frigga.”  
“So what’s the problem then?” You whine, knowing very well you were whining like a put out needy girlfriend.  
“He might be the all-father my lady, but he still has to play nice.”  
“I’d rather he play with me.” You grouse, earning an admonishing tut from your handmaiden.

“Lys- I just- I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up. I mean, I know he basically had extra time but now it feels like he has none. I just-“  
“You miss him.” She said softly, coming to your side and running her hand up and down your back soothingly. “You might not wish to admit it, but you are fond of him, and while he’s certainly not stopped his attentions, he has ceased his ah-“ She blushed and you grinned.  
“Norns, you’re as awful as him. But my statement stands. You miss him. Your lessons are quite professional, his highness has always been studious and stalwart in the pursuit of knowledge. But as for romance…” Lys’s words trail off and you sigh. She’s right. You dislike like it, heavily, but she is right.   
You miss the intimacy with Loki- his stupid mercurial sexually charged visits. Maybe part of it was your libido talking but really there was another problem.

You grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, shocking Lys.   
“Are you-“ She hesitated as you remained face planted into the cotton stuffed accent throw. “Are you alright miss?”  
“No.” You grumbled, muffled words still audible. “But I can’t- I can’t let him know I miss him Lys. Can you imagine how smug he’d be finding it out? How he’d lord it over me? He’d never let me live it down and sure I could tease him and try to get him hot and horny for me-“  
“You really shouldn’t-“  
“All he’d do is gloat about how I was the one to break first and seek him out. Bastard probably is distancing himself just for that reason, the fucker.”  
“Language my lady!”  
“Why can’t he just-“ You made a exploding motion with your hands, dramatically falling onto your back, the sofa catching you. “-Poof! ‘Hello darling,’” you mimicked his voice best you could, “’I haven’t been around and I’m wanting another blowjob so how about I whisk you away for a day of seduction and you can suck me off in a nice dark corner?’ Honestly Lys I would-“  
“MY LADY!”  
“I’d suck that dick like it’s a creamy popsicle.”  
“That’s hardly how a courtship works!”  
“That’s how it works on earth!” Sometimes. Okay, not really but fucking hell you were lonely and needy and kind of a lot horny. 

Silence permeated the room for a moment.  
“You need an outlet.” Lys finally muttered, red in the face. She might be a lesbian, but she was rather easily embarrassed when it came to anything sexual.   
“I need dick.” You tell her, grinning lewdly.   
She grumbled something and you sighed dramatically, wishing Loki would just show up and demand a quickie. Hell, his want for eating you out sounded like heaven right then. Heck, you’d settle for no sex but a nice cuddle.

Unfortunately for you, there would be neither for the next week, Loki having informed you that your Asgardian lessons would be taking a backseat while he was having to deal with the Vanaheim delegations and the Alfheim ambassadors, (who looked nothing like the hot Lord of the Ring elves you’d hoped for to be real).   
So, no longer having Loki around, despite the whole courtship thing, you’d taken to exploring the capital, and to visiting Heimdall. Mostly, because he was nice, but he also knew juicy gossip about the things happening on Asgard. You never asked about earth however. You wondered, but you also were afraid. It had been over a month now with no word from Thor, and with no news about the situation with Amora, you rather didn’t want to find anything out that might have been more or less…damaging.  
The death of your family was still too new, too fresh.  
“Lady (Y/n).” Heimdall greeted you, his gold eyes fixed out the gateway of the Bifrost, never leaving their watch.  
“Morning Sir Heimdall.” His lips gave a slight uptick with the formal address. He’d told you he was no lord, but you insisted on it, in your own words, ‘You’re the most knightly man I’ve met plus it fits.’ You guessed he sort of liked being given the title, even if it wasn’t exactly correct. “So, anything new happening in the nine realms today? Well, new interesting wise.”   
He gave a slight nod before starting his update for you. It was kind of like a personal newscaster. You’d asked him, a few days into your inquiries, if it bothered him, but apparently, few people visited the Bifrost gate, and those that did came for purely work or business of the crown. Company for the sake of curiosity was still company after all.  
“Jotunheim plans for it’s annual feast day, their summer equivalent making the climate less cold than they like. The feast and festival is also a ceremony to bring back the frosts and cold-“ Heimdall was nice enough when he explained things to provide context. It was not something you asked for, just a thing he did, likely for your benefit.  
“It is also a fertility festival, and many giant maidens have begun their preparations in anticipation for King Loki’s arrival.” Another odd quirk was that Heimdall called Loki ‘King Loki’ rather than his title. It might be because he didn’t quite trust the man or, the whole kill each other in Ragnarok thing. You didn’t ask, and kind of didn’t want to know.

“Huh.” You said. You were a bit curious about the last bit though. Shamelessly, you were more than a bit curious about Loki’s birthplace, the realm he technically was king by birthright to. “He’s… going there? And these… women are going to try and seduce him?” It wasn’t exactly alarming, he had many Asgardian women also attempting the same.  
“Indeed. The tradition is that the king takes a maiden from the valley and consummates a union with her, symbolizing the pastoral tradition of their tribal history and method of unions. From this, the king used to use the casket of ancient winters to renew the ice fields until the planet cooled once more. But-“ Heimdall’s head twisted slightly towards the castle.  
“King Loki is unlikely to do more than use the casket. He is... uncomfortable with his true nature.” A pause. “Barring when in your company.”  
You blushed and tried your best to ignore the fact that Heimdall knew very well what exactly you and Loki had done. Poor guy really did see all in the nine realms. Blow jobs to his king included.

It stung in a way, knowing that Loki not only had literal Goddesses ready to throw down for him but also probably some badass frost giantesses. What did you offer? Well, a good blow job but that probably wasn’t ideal for making the foundations of a real relationship. Plus- he just hasn’t been around. You sighed to yourself.  
“So-“ You looked to the golden eyed gatekeeper. “-he’s going to go there, fuck some giant woman, make it hella cold then come back?” Heimdall nodded and you wished he didn’t.  
“However.” He said, “-There is no law among them that states the maiden taken must also be a giantess. Only that it’s tradition.” The look he gives you is knowing and aside from the embarrassment, you catch onto the meaning. Loki loved breaking tradition. He ALSO had promised to take you somewhere.   
“So, the maiden just has to be in the valley then?”  
“There are ample books in the library. Perhaps your handmaiden might aid you for the answers you seek.” He isn’t looking at you anymore. Maybe Heimdall didn’t hate Loki that much, given he was all but telling you how to get the man back between your legs.  
Grinning you thanked him, running back to the palace. You already had your plan. Make Loki take you with him to Jotumheim. Tease him at this festival, make him take you- then… fuck him? Maybe? Hell, he’d probably get off with you sucking his dick again and calling it good. As you raced to the library, the idea fresh in your head to almost ran into someone.

That someone being Loki, armor worn and a stern look on his face.  
“You visited the Bifrost today.” He looked almost.. angry? His hand ran to you hair, fingers playing with a lock. “I don’t recall saying you could leave the palace.”  
You- “Excuse me?” You snap at him and the look in his eyes- anger and…lust? What is he going on about?  
“I think I need to remind you pet.” The sharp pull on your hair hurts, and it shocks you with his cruel sudden action.  
“You cannot leave Asgard.” His voice is low, a cold chill running over you from his breath.  
“And you will certainly never leave me.”


	13. Refused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki loses more than what he had gained.

Loki’s grip in your hair was tight, bordering on painful when his mouth ghosted over your neck. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to tease. His other hand had grabbed your wrist, thumb running over the pulse as your heart thundered while in his grasp.  
“You cannot leave Asgard, not without my permission.” He growled, voice vibrating deep in his chest as he spun you pulling you into an embrace. Your backside pressing to his chest, he wasn’t about to let you go not matter how you gasped and whimpered at the harsh touch. “Not without asking first.” You tilted your neck and gasped when you realized what you saw in his face.  
Anger… and desire. He wanted something from you, he wanted to take something but he- You rolled your hips, earning a soft sigh from him, his hand on your thigh squeezing.   
“You owe me a trip though.” You remind him, rolling your body against his. You didn’t appreciate this roughness with no warning and you were still vaguely upset at his ghosting, so, it was time to play dirty. Time to make the King of Asgard _your_ King once more. “And I don’t recall you saying I wasn’t allowed to leave the palace. Only that without anything from you, I might find things a bit difficult?” You punctuated the final word with a grind against him, making sure he’d get a good feel of your ass against his leather confined cock.   
“Or are you afraid my king?” You heard the groan from him, that utterly satisfying sound of him unable to hide his lust. “Afraid your wildfire has found something else that might make her burn?” Not that anyone else could possibly surpass Loki in his ability to make you aroused with his challenging nature.   
“Oh, My wildfire- you would admit such? That you are mine?” You bent your head back, smiling as you stood on your toes, stealing a kiss from him much to his shock, shock that had him letting your hair go and his grip on your hip loosening.  
“When it suits me.” Is the answer you gave him swatting his hand away as you put a bit of distance between your bodies.

“And I really did not appreciate that little stunt. Really- being all…” You waved a hand at him. “Dramatic and dominating. I mean, I certainly like it when you’re… you know.” Your blush is only punctuated by his grin and your scowl at his easy demeanor.  
“I mean it Loki. That wasn’t funny. I thought-“ You thought for a moment he was serious. That he really would punish you.  
“What does it matter that I visit the Bifrost? Not like I can go home without being killed anyway.”

The reaction is instant. His face dropped, and he reached out to you, taking your hand in his, fingers rubbing over your knuckles.  
“I know it has been difficult these past weeks. Would you understand if I said I feared you’d attempt to get back to Midgard?” You push at him, not looking at his face. You’re not going to let him get out of this.  
“No. I think you should trust me when I say I am staying here. I think-“ You sighed. “I think that maybe we’re being stupid, thinking we could be... something. I mean it’s obvious you have more important things to do that just... hang out with me.”  
“Hang out?” His perplexed tone betrayed his ignorance on slang.  
“Spend time with me. Not like, our sexual banter hour in the parlor, or attempting to get under each other’s skin so people think we’re pissed. Not all the kinky shit we do just... hanging out. Be nearby and you know, content.” It sounds so stupid when you say it, but Loki seemed to understand leaning down to get into your view.  
“You have felt neglected in my attentions then?” He sounded so… Ernest. So hopeful of your affection.

You blush.  
Loki, for all his bluster, probably has never had someone who genuinely wanted to spend time in his company. Not without a motivation.  
“Yeah.” You answered him lamely. “I, fuck it okay, I miss you.” The confession drew blood to your face, red filling your cheeks along with heated embarrassment.  
It took all of two seconds before Loki grabed your heated face and kissed you.  
Deeply.  
“Darling.” His voice was thick with passion. Not lust just- desire. A sort of gentle desire born of what you hope against all hopes, is fondness. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear such words.” Again, he kissed you, and in your enjoyment, you let yourself fall into the moment, fingers tangling in his hair and leaning into him as the pair of you embrace, tongues and teeth battling for sensual dominance.  
A game Loki won by far, sweeping you off your feet. Almost literally.

“Everything is… difficult right now. I have been neglecting you, and our courtship, even I can admit that. Truthfully-“  
“Said my liar god-.”  
“Fine.” He sighs dramatically, making you giggle at his overt motions. “I have been avoiding you, but not out of a lack of desire or all work. I wish to court you but traditionally such things would-“ He grimaced. “Not be well received.”

Your brow raised. “How so?”  
He sucked in some air, eyes moving away from your gaze. “Well, traditionally I would go on a hunt and present you with my kill, which is rather barbaric and a needless waste of animal life. There would also be the courtly poetry and songs I’d compose. Not to mention invitations to public excursions where we would greet nobility to show our potential as husband and wife. I would also enquire of your bride price-”  
“My _WHAT_?” Loki’s laughter is matched only by your outrage and confusion.  
“Pet, mind you, I hardly think it appropriate. It’s an old, old Asgardian practice. One I know your culture has long since abandoned. If anything, I should be taking you out on fine dining excursions and buying you expensive gifts, lavishing you with attention. That is more Midgardian yes?” You stare at him.  
Loki, once the villain, the would be alien overlord, had fucking researched dating.   
Wait.   
“You- You went out of your way to find out what dating consists of and you didn’t even take me on one?” In your ire you swat his arm, to which he playful scowls and scoffs.   
“Well there are hardly michelin star restaurants on Asgard, though we have taverns aplenty. And I’m hardly going to take you to the equivalent of a bar to court you.” The blush is back. Stupid hormonal reactions. 

“Maybe I’d like going to a seedy bar.” Loki’s grin is equal parts licentious and mischievous.  
“Do not tempt me my sweet bird, I know many a tavern where a delicious wench like yourself would fall victim to a unscrupulous lout.”  
“Mmm, but maybe I want to become a victim. Maybe I want someone… unscrupulous.” You play with him, hands running over his collar as Loki adjusts his posture, adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.   
“Careful for what you ask for-“  
“I am. Which is why I want those magic lessons and my trip!” You chime, tapping him on the nose with a laugh. The switch had him laughing, that full and bright sound that made your heart beat a tiny bit faster.  
“So you did my darling, so you did.” His eyes were positively sparkling as he bent to kiss you again, something you allowed. “Magic lessons we may start tomorrow, we’ll tackle them in conjunction with your Asgardian studies as most tomes we have are written in more advanced forms of our language. As for a trip did you have some place in mind?”

You bit your lip. Heimdall’s words echo in your skull and you wonder if perhaps it’s a good time to approach him about it. His whole issue with his heritage is not an easy one, and even you know the sexual acts you and he have done have always been behind closed doors and not spoken of or mentioned in detail. You never outright broached the subject outside of heated moments of lust and desire.   
“Tell me where you were going first.”

It was like you’d taken whatever joy had been in Loki’s eyes and ripped it from him. The change was subtle, not in posture but in the set of his mouth, the fondness and playful gaze, the strength of his gentle grip going slack.   
Loki was going somewhere, and he’d not have you join him.  
“I-“  
“Don’t lie to me Loki.” You reached out, cupping his face. “Please.” Up until the please, Loki looked ready to lie, confident and collected even as his mirth had vanished. Yet the moment you begged, you saw the faintest flicker of distress.  
“I am going to Vanaheim, to see the damage the marauders have inflicted. I’ll be back before nightfall.”

The dullness in his eyes, the set of his lips, the forced smile crafted to be disarming and gentle.  
Loki had lied to you.  
“Oh.”

You pulled your hand back, and felt your own heart thundering. Why did he lie? Why would he lie? Heimdall made it sound like the festival on Jotunheim was days away so where was Loki going? Where was he going, in full armor no less, where you couldn’t?   
“I… see.” You didn’t. You were supposed to trust one another. Fucking bastard.  
The anger swelled up. First he assumed you’d try to run away from him and now he’s just vanishing, after ghosting you for weeks with no real justification and he lied about it. To your face no less.  
“Love-“ It’s like a cold bucket of water. The gentle pleading tone, the mock warmth in his voice and softness of his gaze.  
“I hope you have a good trip Loki. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Not later that night. Not when he’d lied to you. Not when in the span of not even half an hour, you’d nearly fallen for his half excuses and silvertongued words of sweetness.

You walk back to the palace, in your mind’s eye hoping Loki would chase after you, apologize, confess to the lie and tell you the truth.  
He doesn’t.

You return to your rooms alone, dreams of a romance on another realm just dreams.

***

He hated it. First, he’d had to avoid his beloved wildfire, his sweet midgardian temptress lest he betray his plans for the sake of easing her sorrows and her heart. Then, he’d had to lie to her about where he was going- all after having the stupidity to think she could have left Asgard even if she wanted to and in a fit lashed out at her unjustly. Heimdall may have despised him, but the man wouldn’t send a mortal to her death, not when Amora was hunting for ways to lure her back so she might use her to incite him. He’d been an idiot.  
His own fears of losing someone who he genuinely cared for made him irrational. Again. He hated the fact he had formed such a bond, a relationship to her but- he also adored it. He was close to saying he truly, genuinely loved her. He might not be a good man, or even a decent man, but what could he call these feelings but love? He was narcistic and cruel and power hungry but norns the idea of her leaving him, and exiting his life was painful. He wanted her laughter, her smile, her joy at every waking moment not for himself, but for her. So that she might feel just a fraction of happiness she deserved. Sentiment was a weakness but when she was in his arms, when she smiled, when she laughed and kissed him and played his own words back upon him? All that pain and agony and fear felt worth it for those brief, wonderous moments when he felt like he was the one things that mattered, that _she_ was the one thing that mattered, the one that brought true joy to his otherwise repetitive life.

And then he’d gone and lied to her after stupidly doubting her and in her brilliance, _she’d known he’d lied_.

Loki wanted to stab something, and Thor wasn’t around.  
No, Thor was balls deep in his beloved Dr. Foster, which was all well and good considering that so long as he had his paramour, Amora would find it difficult to enchant him. 

Which was just why Loki had traveled to Midgard, two dozen Einherjar in tow. Thor had informed him through Heimdall that Amora had somehow managed to infiltrate the leaders of the council of ‘united nations’ and attempted to pass laws and judgements upon any mortals who consorted with those who were not Midgardian.   
A clear tactic to devest Thor and his allies of legitimacy, and further vilify himself and any men he sent. Worse, some of earth’s peoples thought this a good policy. Hardly, given how many were descendants of the past kree experiments. Amora had, as usual, made her move, directly challenging himself and calling him to arms. Hence, his own appearance and the Einherjar, united nations be damned.

The notably, they were all female Einherjar courtesy of Sif’s selection and training.   
Arriving in New York had been tempting, but, Thor had actually been sensible for once, and suggested the ‘upstate’ avengers compound. Which was much better given that when he and the Einherjar arrived by Birforst, only three of ‘earth’s mightiest’ were pointing weapons at him. As opposed to well, all of them and being subject to world wide news.

“Oh my god that’s him, that’s the guy that leveled New York that’s him-“  
“Okay pipe down pipsqueak let the adults handle this.”  
“Tony, let the kid get it out, you know he’s just going to go off and harass him later.”  
“Yeah well do you want to tell Aunt May that her nephew got killed by an evil alien overlord?”  
“Oh my gosh he’s looking right at us Mr. Stark what do I do?”  
“Nothing, you stay behind me and Bruce until we need you.”  
“Tony, Loki is supposed to be non-hostile.”  
“Does that look non-hostile to you?”

Loki wished at that moment, perhaps Thor should have smashed his face in with the hammer. Maybe then he’d not have to deal with this senseless prattle.  
“You do all realize I am right here and can hear every word you’re saying?”  
Iron Man, or as Loki thought of him, ‘The idiot who was too smart to realize he was stupid’ shouted back.  
“Not another word reindeer games! Not until we know you’re not here for Invasion 2.0”  
Rolling his eyes, Loki really wished Thor had just rendered him unable to hear. “If I did you really think I’d have announced days before my intent to arrive and brought only a handful of warriors? All female warriors at that?”

“Hey wait what’s wrong with lady fighters?” The child dressed in spandex and wires chimed from behind his mentor. Spider-Man, he recalled Thor telling him, though he was hardly a man and still but a child.  
“Nothing young Parker, only that they are immune to Amora’s sedir, and thus, are the only ones I’d trust going into this conflict.”  
The boy cowered quickly behind Stark, muttering frantically. “How does he know my name? Oh man if Aunt May finds out Loki knows who I am she’ll never let me leave the apartment-“  
“You’ll have a lot worse things to worry about than your fetching Aunt mothering you if you do not cease this useless prattle and take me to those afflicted.”

These simpletons, (though he could hardly blame the boy for being sensibly, fearful), had no idea what they were up against.  
Stark lowered his arms, and Bruce, the Beast, looked nervously at him. Good. At least the man had control of his other half. “I am here because Thor told me of Amora’s recent ventures among your nations leaders, and her movements to curb opposition to her progress. As Thor should have informed you, the Einherjar are here to act as aids in this and I am here to attempt to break some of the enchantress’s control.”  
“No offense, but last time you were here, you tried to kill all of us.” Bruce said, nervously wringing his hands.  
“And you were not bedding the assassin. Times change. Now, can we skip all this and agree for the sake of my patience and sanity, that despite whatever past grievances we might have, a more important shared issue is at hand?” Stark was the one to step forward.  
“No games, no tricks. If this woman really is controlling the united nations we could have a much bigger problem than government agencies breathing down our necks. You’ll be staying in lockdown while we do our investigation, no going out, no talking to anyone, no one knows you’re here and-”

Loki snapped.  
“Do you think I a fool? That I do not know the risk in this venture? Need I remind you, I am housing a Midgardian woman in my palace, a woman who’s only crime is being victim to the sorceress’s malicious ire and who’s sole want is to return to her home. Her family is **dead** because of my and your lack of foresight. She’s alone on Asgard, with no idea when she might return to her realm, _if_ she will ever be able to. I see her every day Stark. I am reminded with each time I see her that I failed as the All-Father, and my failure has caused her unneeded pain. And if you might take one moment to think upon the actions I have taken for this woman, you might realize that I, as cruel and spiteful as I am, take no pleasure in senseless slaughter or suffering.” He hissed, the Einherjar behind him shuffling forward, ready to defend their king.   
“I am here because I wish to protect the nine realms from a mad woman who delights in torment and cruelty. I do not have to aid you Stark. I am not obligated to spare the lives of those Amora has taken into her thrall. But I will. Not because I wish to be merciful or kind, but because-“ He bit his tongue, eyes boring holes into the impassive mask that his Tony Stark’s face from him.

“I spare them because I am the All-Father, and Midgard is under my protection just as Asgard is. I will not be corralled like the criminal I once was, because that is no longer who I am. And even Thor would be foolish to think I would jeopardize putting Amora away for something as petty as vengeance.”

The iron mask fell away as Stark glared at him.  
“… So It’s true then? She’s still on Asgard?” You, his beloved. The only woman who’d looked at him like he might be the stars themselves even when he was in the form of a monster. But he will not tell Stark of your relationship with him. He knows well enough that this is your home, a home you might return to, leave him for, so he will not jeopardize your future here.  
“Yes. And unless we can capture Amora, it is on Asgard she will remain. If we fail, it is on Asgard where she will die.”  
The man went silent for a beat as Loki attempted to parse why Stark would fixate on her.  
“You care about her.” The man was too smart to realize he was stupid.  
“It **is** hard to hate someone who’s worst offense was to lie to me about her name when we first met.” 

A tiny smile broke out on Stark’s face and Loki sneered in response.  
“I think I like her even more now. Alright though, just-“ He waved his hand in the air. “We can’t have you looking like this. Drones and satellites would spot you miles away and Strange said not to keep you in the open for more than 30 minutes unless we wanted to risk it so let’s head inside.” A hand pat Loki’s shoulder, only making him grimace at the physical contact.  
“I owe you a drink anyway.” 

Loki made sure to pick the most expensive one, and down it in a single sitting.   
He’d need it, especially at the thought of how to explain to you not only had Amora managed to gain control of a number of Earth’s leaders, but how she’d managed to control half of Earth’s Avengers as well and by doing so, made the situation infinitely worse. Because now, Amora wasn’t asking for just power, or just Loki’s throne in exchange for sparing the lives of the leaders or so called heroes. No, she was asking for you personally, because somehow, she knew what Loki hadn’t told Stark or his remaining compatriots. Somehow, she’d found out what Loki had thought none off of Asgard were privy too. 

Amora knew he had begun to fall in love, and what was love, but the greatest weakness a king could have?


	14. Return

Loki was quite certain that of all the things that could go wrong, they would go all wrong and all at once. 

One, the relationship and courtship with his, (no, not his, not anymore) wildfire was at a point where she didn’t voice her worries or thoughts to him anymore, not like when she’d been so wonderfully outspoken and rebellious. So wild and passionate and cunning and willing to risk. She was pulling away, and he was the cause of it. Him and his stupid, stupid petty lie. He’d gone home as promised, and she didn’t want to see him. Now, days later, he still hadn’t seen her and had only been able to forge letters to her to cover his lie with even more lies.   
Two, Thor was not fucking his beloved Dr. Foster. No, he was busy Fucking Amora, (again).  
Three, Dr. Foster was screaming on the other side of the door demanding an explanation beyond, ‘he’s a witless oaf who couldn’t accept that he would fall under her thrall if parted from his lover.’  
Four, Stark was trying to stop Foster but making her more upset.  
Five, Banner had voluntarily put himself into deep freeze as to not be put at risk for Amora’s Thall and thus, Loki had lost a powerful ally given that Amora couldn’t control the mind of both the Hulk and Banner while they resided in the same body.  
Six, a cat king’s little sister was proving to be the smartest person among those who held any iota of ability on this horrid realm and she wasn’t even of age yet. A child! And yet she was furthest along in creating a means to deflect Amora’s wiles.   
Seven, the spider child was far too earnest and wanting to help and in being so helpful to his elders, had unwittingly helped Amora by thinking the soldiers were here on a visit.   
Eight, the widow stabbed him in the side in a fit of rage, (mildly justified).   
Nine, he may be nigh immortal but norns did it HURT.  
Ten, He had a meeting with the elders on Jotunheim soon and he was going to be late and smelling of a Midgardian shop that only sold highly fragranced body lotions and various cleansing materials that were of poor quality and left his skin feeling drying even if they all said they had ‘Shea Butter’. Whatever that was.   
Eleven, showering off the remains of a warding potion that had the viscosity of tree sap was entirely unpleasant no matter how many soaps one used.   
Twelve, his mental list was far too long already and for his own sake he was ending it right now. 

Stepping out from the shower and drying himself, Loki, King of Asgard groaned as the shrieking anger of Dr. Foster continued, Stark’s own yelling joining her’s. He’d warned Thor that he had to remain by Foster’s side. Her proximity would make her spell harder to take hold, and would buy him precious time to escape her grasp. But no, he’d left his beloved, and charged into battle as her newest pawns of the two soldiers out of time stormed the complex seeking to bring down the sorceress. 

And people thought he was a good candidate for king still.

“Foster.” Loki figured that if anything would cease his brother’s lover’s ire, it would be him answering her screeching nude. It worked.  
“While I understand your vexation, your insistence to badger me is unhelpful to myself, Thor, or anyone. Cease this, resume your work on creating the tracker for Amora’s castings with Strange, and leave me to my work in peace.” The woman sputtered as Stark gathered her, making comment that Loki really ought to stop walking in his ‘apartment’ nude.

It was his apartment, even if temporary, was his and if he wished to be nude he would be.  
But it didn’t matter. He had a meeting on Jotunheim to get to. A quick check with the Einherjar got him the latest- Thor was MIA still, as well as most of the male avengers, and Amora was now on the news and people were starting to panic. He was still in the shadows, and so long as things remained that way, he could continue his support in the efforts to bring her to justice. 

An hour later, he stood in Utgard, skin cobalt and four elder frost giants looking down at him all with the same question:  
When would he right his wrongs?

It was humiliating as when they asked he thought not of Jotunheim, but of you, and how he was at a loss on how to make up for these past days of impersonal conduct.

***  
“Oh fuck-“ Your hips rose off the bed, spread open for a phantom lover as you toyed with your clit. Pissed at Loki you were, you also had urges that needed attention. Namely, the urge to get fucked like a whore on royal frost giant dick. And while you were pissed at the king, his gift was helping you work out some of the stress that came with anger and frustration.

And god, did fucking the dildo help, especially in knowing Loki was off Asgard and could be doing a number of things and being forced to experience the phantom fuck as you took your use from the phallus. However- in knowing you were so mad, and likely pissing off Loki, it made your mind go places. Rather naughty places that would have made even Lys scream in mortification.

These past days you loved imagining Loki storming back, rock hard, forcing his way into your room just to see you bouncing on the toy. He’d growl and stalk around you, watching as you got yourself off. He’d not content himself with just watching and feeling the phantom flesh; No, he’d pull out his cock, vigorously fucking his fist until he came on you, coating your skin in his seed. And like the horny slut you were for him, you’d greedily gather it up on your fingers licking it away before moving to suck the real thing, happily swallowing each salty drop he gave. Oh, and then- as he got his second wind he’d tell you, or if you were feeling extra dirty, order you to bend over. He’d spank you, punishment for making him suffer. Then, ass tender and red he’d take you, fucking you from behind like a bitch in heat.   
Over and over, making you cum, flooding you with his jism before moving your body to better accommodate his length, better take his seed. 

You pictured his face, contorted in lust and wrath as he’d pin you down, fucking you like a beast, his red eyes drinking in the sight of your tits bouncing as your cunt took every inch of his beautiful blue cock. He’d speak filthy things to you, remind you of how much you said you didn’t want him but god, you were a liar. A wicked liar for the liar god. Every time he’d go deep, making you literally bounce from the force of his thrusts, screaming in bliss when he’d bottom out, balls slapping against your ass. Then, when the time came he’d kiss you. Demanding, hot, and so full of want and need and he’d cum, filling you up until it was dripping out of you. Then, like the god he was he’d keep fucking you through your own orgasm until-

You came on the dildo, a sharp cry leaving you as your body reached it’s peak, mind surrounded in it’s fantasy of Loki’s sexual conquest of you.

The dildo left inside you, you shaking legs went slack, hands slipping down as you regained your breath, eyes fluttering open to the reality that you were alone- and Loki was elsewhere, doing who knew what. The festival on Jotunheim was just a day away and he was supposed to drop in before leaving but you doubted he would.   
No magic teaching, no trip- he was running close to breaking his vow to you and you even worried he was doing it on purpose. The necklace on you neck, the gift he’d made for you was warm, and it still made you hopeful that he was at least forthright about his interest and intent. After all, he was busy and hand’t been with other women and had been sending you letters to keep you updated on his Vanaheim ventures. 

You laid in your bed for a while, wondering if maybe it would be better to call it off. You had a ‘fight’ already and he’d lied to you and now while busy he just wasn’t around and-  
You huffed, fist slamming down on the bed before you went about cleaning up after you little self love session. If Loki wanted to make amends, he could do so, but until he said he was sorry, you’d just.. keep doing as you wanted. Which as of late, had been working on your Asgardian and reading various tomes on magic. Might as well get a head start if he ever kept his promise. 

You didn’t notice the light of the Bifrost in the distance, nor, the sight of a blue horned king returning, fury in his eyes as he returned to his kingdom.

***  
He wanted to destroy his past self for his own folly. His love was wicked alright. Wicked in how daily she’d taken to using his gift, wracking his body with bliss even when on earth. Usually he had time to excuse himself or cast an illusion. But no- she’d gone and started when he was meeting with various Jotun women who were attempting to seduce him. Now, more than 20 different giantesses thought he was wanting to fuck them when the actual woman who he wanted to ravage was busy satisfying herself on Asgard to a false phallus in his image. 

He was in his true jotun form, terrifying half his citizens, and he was sporting what had to be the worst erection of his life. He couldn’t very well go to you, seducing you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and hope you’d fall into his arms. That would be a disservice both to you and himself. No, he would have to go to his own chambers and handle the problem alone. 

By the time he reached said rooms, he was certain you’d know he’d returned but it didn’t matter. He needed relief, he needed to-   
“Damn it!” He curse, ripping off his armor and casting it aside in his rage. He wanted to fuck you, go to you, dominate you, take you like his brutal, feral nature demanded. The fertility festival was tomorrow and he could feel the magic in him begging for an outlet. He wanted to fuck- to spread his seed inside a fertile woman. Sire and heir and ensure the winter’s chill. He wanted to do it with you, to spill his seed in your womb, mark you as his among the jontar, to make you his lover, his chosen and favored of asgard and perhaps even in time-

His hand reached his cock, stroking it roughly before he pulled back to spit on his hand, reaching a chair to sit back and resume his attentions. 

Loki wanted to commit horrible cruelties on you, under the guise of love. Rape, ravage, control- he was a monster. In this horrid, wretched form he was a monster yet you wanted him like this? A beast? A primitive blood thirsty animal?   
His hips bucked as he imagined you on your hands and knees, attending to him, worshiping him and calling him your god in the same way you said his name so sweetly after a gentle kiss. He pictured how beautiful you would look- snow silk, white and soft over your skin, sheer it would give the illusion of modesty, yet revealing all to his gaze. You nipples peaked and flushed with blood, your bush going down your neck as you pleasured him. And oh, your sex, dripping wet and practically steaming in the cold of Jotunheim, waiting for him to take you. Gold jewelry on your arms and legs, crystals and gemstones woven into your hair- a goddess of decadence, of radiant mortal beauty- one who was his opposite in grace and patience. Yet chaotic and wild, burning with a passion that he unlocked when he would challenge her. His wildfire, his love and sorrow. A fire that would burn for a time then vanish into smoke, his wicked, tragic, mortal love-

His fist stroked faster as he panted, eyes closed, your face in his mind. He wanted you. Norns, how he wanted you smile, your sweet laughter as he’d make love to you in the snow, your passion and heat melting everything around you while he would freeze the realm with his might. You would be utterly magnificent, his chosen, his fertile little mortal. His-

“Oh my god.” Red eyes shot open and looked to the sound. Your voice, you, in the parted door of his parlor, mouth open and eyes in wonder and awe.

“I-“  
He didn’t think. He acted, pulling you with his magic, dragging you to his arms before he kissed you, gripping you, pulling you into his lap before he orgasmed, staining the green gown you wore.

“My pet.” He groaned as he kissed you again.  
“My dearest one.” Kiss after kiss, he let his beast, his monster wild, ravishing your mouth, barely tethering himself from ripping you bare and mounting you on the floor. “I missed you.”

You gasped, arching your back as he nipped you neck, mewling as his hands gripped you hips, grinding his body to your own, letting you feel his yet to wane desire.  
“My love.” You whimpered as Loki held you close, slowly fighting back for control.  
“My wildfire.”

You panted, a whirlwind of his lust thrown upon you with no warning, his abuse of touch, the violation of the deal.  
Yet your words made his heart soar in what they affired.  
“My king.”

He was your king.   
And you wanted him to be.


	15. Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In where Loki realizes he can't ignore whats in front of him, and you realize that maybe, being a demanding woman isn't the most brilliant plan when it come to alien rituals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a slight 'daddy kink' at the end, but it's brief and won't be making an appearance outside of this chapter.

He should have expected the slap. In fact, if he considered every woman in his life that had earned his respect, they had all, at one point in time or another, slapped him.   
It just so happened that when the woman slapping him was also the woman he was shamelessly infatuated with, he was all but wanting to pin her down and fuck her wild. Not without her consent of course, but the notion of fucking his wildfire while she screamed at fought him in anger was absolutely arousing in ways he would have previously considered only remnants of his Jotun heritage. But when you slapped him, Loki felt himself grow hard once more, and the heat in his chest turn into a full blown joy at your fury.  
“You asshole! You lied! You fucking lied-“  
“I did.” He kept trying to kiss you, missing your lips but decorating your neck, your upper chest, your cheeks- he kept trying and you kept fighting.  
“I lied to you, and I must confess the truth I want to deny.” His hands kept you in his lap, his cock hard and pressed to your front, the sticky white of his releasing staining your clothes. “I cannot let you leave Asgard.” It was a cold delivery, a cruel one and made your face twist in anger. How could he do this? Come back, kissing you, acting like you’d fall right back into bed with him, calling you his love-

“I cannot let you leave, as I do not want you to leave.” A confession, a cruel irony as his mouth found your own and anger flooded your eyes in the form of hot tears. You pounded at his chest, clawed at his skin and screamed into his mouth. He took it, every drop of your anger as it melted away into a broken sob. When he finally relented, his own expression was adoring, while you were sobbing.  
“You can’t just- You can’t keep doing this to me.” He crooned, puling you close, hands running up and down your back, his body still pressed to your own.  
“I know- I have wronged you. Lied. Taken more than I was given.” His hands wove their way to your hair, making your whimper at their soothing brush, tugging gently at the tangles there.   
“No-“ You pushed back against him, making him look at your face, making him understand it wasn’t so simple. That this, wasn’t something he could just smooth over.  
“You don’t- Loki.” A plea, his face cracked with open emotion, worry, hesitance, you chipped away at his mind and reason and broke him down until he was sand at your feet.  
“You hurt me. You lied and- and sorry isn’t good enough. I want.” You tried to articulate the words, “I want to make this work if we can. But you can’t run off and lie to me. You can’t keep taking and giving me promises you can’t keep.” His mouth opened but you shushed him. “I don’t just mean the magic lessons or the trip- I mean keeping me safe, trusting me. You trusting me is a promise and when you lie it- it hurts. And you coming back and kissing me like it’s all going to go away… that’s not healthy, thats not good for us.”

You broke the gaze, eyes downcast, ignoring that now, his cock was growing soft under your hips. For a while, neither of you said anything, until Loki began to resume his gentle touch, hands moving in your hair like they had done that first time.  
“How is it, out of all the women in the nine, I manage to find myself with the one who I would do nearly anything for, but what she wants and needs most is something I do not know how to give her?” His voice asked the question to no one, and you sighed, letting him ruminate over your words while he soothingly braided your hair.   
“I could get you fine jewels, beautiful dresses and gowns, flowers from Alfheim, delicacies of Vanaheim, power and money and even go to harvest the very sunlight and give it shape for you.” Poetry, you huff, wordless as he leans you to his chest, a soft weight against his form as he enjoyed nothing more than the strands of your hair in his fingers.  
“Yet you ask for me to be truthful. For my honor, a gentle romance.” His sigh is heavy and with a motion, his hand dipped under your chin to make you look at him. He was melancholic, forlorn over perhaps, his choice to peruse you.   
“I don’t know how to love you as you need me to-“   
“Then don’t.” You matched his expression, hand cupping his own, guiding his fingers to weave together. “Love me how _you_ would love me, but don’t lie to me anymore. Stop- stop thinking that we can keep doing this. I want to love you, to be loved by you.” You kissed his hand, wanting him to get out of his own mind, to understand what you just can’t say.  
“You keep thinking I want what a King of Asgard can give me, what anyone with power could give me, what some great sorcerer can grant me but really. I want Loki. I want you. Is that-“ You hesitated. “Is that so hard to understand?”  
“But what if I am a liar, a monster, cruel and selfish?”   
You shook your head and laugh, kissing his jaw softly. “I know you can be these things, but you aren’t. Not with me. Look at us.” 

He does. Skin cobalt against your softer tone, warmth stolen by chilled flesh, you didn’t even notice and perhaps, he hadn’t either.   
“You don’t have to lie to me because I want the truth, even if it hurts and is ugly. You aren’t a monster to me because you never have been. You’re cruel only when I want you to be, and your selfishness is what makes me know that if you love me-“ His red eyes are wide, as if he’s seeing more than just you.   
“I know if you love me, you’ll fight for me.”

The kiss is slow, passionate. It’s his answer because just like him, words fail you for these feelings. Eloquent, perhaps on moments, but when it’s like this? You can’t speak, you can only show. Show him how much you hurt from his lie, how it cut you and yet how you miss him, how much you want to try, because he does make you happy. He makes you laugh and challenges your wit and intellect. He’s brilliant and charming, a man that keeps you moving and thinking. He’s kind and considerate even when he’s selfish in his way, and while not perfect, he’s willing to try to be. 

His kiss shows you his apology. He understands he’s hurt you, not just with such a small act but his words, his own ego. He wants you, to try and explore this strange situation he finds himself in and see where it goes. You’re a woman who embraced the part of him all others hesitated to, a part even he is ashamed of. Yet you embraced him, kiss him, show him that perhaps he is not what he thinks he is, what he must be. For you, he feels he is a man, a man blessed by the norns with a woman who would love him if he can only manage to be worthy of her and her love.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you.” You breath out, eyes closed as you pulled away from him slowly. “We can’t keep doing this Loki. We can’t just.. gloss over things.” His hum is met with your frown, and when red eyes met your own, you could tell he’s not sure of himself once again.  
“Kisses and …this… hardly makes a good foundation for you know… a relationship.” You tried to continue on but Loki seemed to have other ideas.  
“I know but-“ He groaned, tugging you to sit at a less stimulating position on his legs. A fact that had entirely been lost to you until then. “-I am unused to this manner of courting. And, I’m not exactly what one would call ‘open’ about myself.” You nodded, knowing full well this fact, especially given his rather… eccentric ways.   
“Still, in the future just remember that I chose this. I chose you.” You smiled, kissing one of his horns, earning you a low groan. “And other than you being emotionally constipated I think I’m okay with my decision.”  
You decided that if Loki can be good, and if he was half naked… might as well.   
“I will admit though, with you gone I did think up some rather dirty ways to tease you.” Your hand stroked the hard bone as he bucked up from the stimuli.   
“Vixen. I had to escape a growing number of women earlier who thought they were the ones enticing me.” His hands reached your thighs, lifting you up with inhuman strength. “I could feel the need as you pleasured yourself. So frantic, your quim was practically pulsing around the toy earlier. Has my absence made you feel so neglect?” His teasing was lighter, his eyes dancing with that familiar mirth and wickedness you’ve come to adore. 

“Mmm.” You maintained the grip on his horns, bending to give one a kitten lick much to Loki’s growing frustration. “I hate admitting it but-“ A hand reached down, you stroked him once, twice-  
“-I can’t help myself. Even if I’m mad, I still want you.”   
He was grinning, thinking perhaps he’d get something from you- but no. Not today. He hurt you and if he was going to get off? You’d make damn sure you’d get what you wanted.

“Take me to Jotunheim with you.” Your hands never stopped stroking his horn, and Loki, caught in pleasure and terror let out a strangled cry as his hips bucked up, your body bouncing in his lap.  
“It’ll fill your promise of taking me on a trip and-“ A lick up one ridge- Loki didn’t have chance to even say no before he was forced into a full body shudder, “-I’ll give you my ass. To grab.” A hand reached back, pulling his palm to glide over your backside. “To grope. To hold. To spank.” That certainly made Loki thrum with excitement, his low moan punctuated by the hand on your rear greedily massaging the flesh. “To _Fuck_.”  
His pupils were wide with the statement. Sex was perhaps the best motivator for Loki oddly enough. 

“Take me with you.” You started slowly grinding down on him, hiking your dress up until it bunched at your waste, giving him not just the soft flesh of your ass to his all to eager hands- you rubbing your panty covered cunt right up against his cock.  
“Take me, and I’ll forgive you.” Red eyes snapped open and he snarled, hard hands pulling you close as he thrusted his hips up, pushing his cock right against your core.  
“Do you have any idea what you’re asking? What it means? I don’t know what you think will happen-“  
“I think you’ll take me, and go insane with a want to fuck me.” You hiss, knowing he’d hate it. The want to fuck you but not being able to, not without begging for it. “You won’t fuck a frost giantess, not while courting me. And if you intended to, you’d have told me, because you want me too much to risk me finding out after the fact.” Loki’s snarling was arousing, fangs snapping as he kept thrusting against you, your own slick and his pre making the fabric so wet it was only pleasing stimulant texture for you both rather than a chafing hindrance.   
“You absolute wicked, depraved, temptress!” His mouth found yours as he pulled you down over his hard length, making your clit rub deliciously over the head of him. “You can’t, because I would fuck you. I’d pin you to the ground and make you scream for me! Beg for me! I’d fill your wanting cunt with my seed over and over until you were heavy with my child!” The intensity of his rage, his voice, flipped a switch in you, your pulse quickening as your arousal spiked.   
“I’ll take you and make you mine! You’d never be able to leave me. Never!” You grabbed his horns, grinding down on his cock as you rode out the edge of your pleasure, the budding oncoming orgasm.  
“God- Fuck! You kinky asshole!” Up and down your rode him, hands gripping his horns as blue hands kept you close, as red eyes were vivid and bright in wild lust.  
“Take me- take me and-“ You would later realize how absolutely stupid you sounded, how you’d broken for him and given in before he did- “Fuck me! My mouth, my ass- Fuck me! Make me yours!” Yet, it was just the right level of vulgar depravity to send Loki howling pushing you down and having his cockhead pressed firmly to your soaked core- the thin fabric barely kept him from breeching you and you screamed in bliss as you felt the sudden gush of hot cum against your sex.  
A litany of curses left you as you reached down, fingers flicking over your clit as you followed him, shivering as you felt yourself gone limp, held up by his hands alone.  
“Oh- oh fuck-“ You were on a cloud with how boneless you felt, how you were just so content to fall against him, breasts against his face while you braced yourself on his horn. Not that Loki seemed to mind- his mouth was happy to nip and suck on you though the dress you wore.   
“So-“ You gathered yourself a bit, pushing back to gaze down at your lover. “-How’s that for a Midgardian courting technique?” 

“Were you serious?” He later asked after taking the time to clean you and himself. Your dress was ruined. Cum stains were not easily removed, plus, you might have ripped part of it when humping Loki.   
“Serious about what?” Your new outfit was shamelessly stolen- a pair of too long leggings held up by a very soft leather chord belt, and a tunic that was loose- showing off both your upper chest and the distinct lack of a bra, (that you may or may not have just thrown in the trash because the idea of tormenting Loki was always a fun one). Taking Loki’s clothes to wear bumped him up the scale of ‘boyfriend’ quite a bit.  
“Wishing to go with me to Jotunheim. I’m certain I never told you of my plans-“  
“Heimdall told me about the fertility thing.” Loki coughed, climbing onto the spot next to you, the closest the pair of you had ever gotten to ‘a bed’. Cuddling was nice though.   
“Did he now?”  
“He told me how you fuck some giantess to ensure a long winter and stuff.”  
“Mhm.” Loki’s expression was guarded, and from the past you knew this meant he didn’t want to say more and was upset- likely about you finding out or Heimdall telling you. Hard to say.  
“It sounded… perfect. I go with you, make you pissed-“ You crawled into his arms, snuggling while your hand played in his hair. “Then you take me to that valley and fuck me with that thick jotun cock.” 

Loki’s very loud groan and his turn to hide his face was very telling as to just what he thought of that suggestion.  
“I thought you wished for us to take it slow.” Was what he managed to croak out while you kept idly petting his chest and combing his hair.  
“Emotionally- I said nothing about how fast or hard I wanted to fuck.” When his head turned back to you there was a bleed of red at the edge of his forest green.   
“You understand the purpose of this ritual? To ensure fertility? Does the fertility factor not-“  
“You just have to cream me right?” Your hand ghosted lower on his abdomen, making the king of asgard twitch and fidget in response. “Stuff me up- a baby doesn’t have to exist. You just need a fertile lover who’s willing to accept the seed into themselves.” Your face raised, you lifted your lips to his ear, sucking on a lobe before whispering. “I might have done a bit of research. According to the books, so long as you cum inside me, the ritual is sated.” 

Loki snarled, facing you and kissing with force, his desire for just that seemed very apparent.   
“You’re angry with me, now you incite me to violate you like a depraved beast.” Your grin was vicious, and then you saw the recognition in his eyes.  
“And you won’t be able to touch me until I tell you. I’ll get to use you. You have to cum inside me and have to say-“ You licked his chin much like a kitten, earning another growl from Loki had features of his jotun heritage bleed through his glamor, “-I like how you feel when you cum in my mouth.” His kiss trailed lower, sucking hard at the space where neck and shoulder met, pain radiating in a burning heat.  
“Ah! Now, since you have my ass, you’ll even get another place to play with.” His one hand decided to grab said flesh and grope it just a hair bordering on painful.  
“Oh-“ You leaned back into the hand, rolling your hips in encouragement, “- and I’ve never done anal before.” You confessed to him, his intake of breath sharp. “You’d be the first I let fuck me back there.”

Loki’s snarl was met with a flurry of kisses and his command to shut up.  
You were more than happy too, especially with how well he kissed.   
“Are you intending to make me lose control, because you are very well nearing my threshold.” Your hand slipped back down, finding the firm yet velvety flesh of his cock.   
“How about we practice with that control?” White teeth were shown in a wild grin as Loki decided he’d start on taking just what you’d offered for the deal.

“Imagine, taking me to some cold snow covered hillside. I’d be freezing, and having to cling to you for warmth.” Your hand stroked him slowly, running your thumb over his slit, smearing pre over the sensitive glans. “I’d be in whatever you wanted- maybe nothing at all. No matter how cold though, my pussy is absolutely soaking wet. Hot a ready for you. But you can’t fuck my cunt. No. You want to cover me in your cum, make everyone know who fucked the mortal, who owns her and makes her scream in pleasure.” Loki had closed his eyes, head rolling back as he no doubt fantasized what you told him.   
“We start simple, you grabbing me by the hair and shoving your dick into my mouth. I can’t help it-“ You licked the shell of his ear, earning a small shiver from him.  
“-I have to use both my hands, swallowing around you as you fuck my face, then, as I worship you cock the other frost giants come and watch.” His hard inhale told you how he liked the ide of being watched. Not that you wanted to be, but with him- it seemed erotic.   
“They all get to see me suck you off. And when it’s too much? You make me choke on your cock, cumming right down my throat and make me swallow.” His breath was getting a bit harder and you nibbled on his neck, kissing every so often. His cock twitched in your hand as you shifted, stroking lower to play with his balls, gently rolling them in your palm.

“My face is a mess. But I do it, I swallow ever salty drop. By this time my pussy is practically gushing, my cream running down my legs. But it’s perfect. Because you won’t have to find lube for my ass.” His one hand on the couch, the other in your hair, he gave a sudden yank, making you gasp into his neck, sighing in pleasure when he relaxed his grip.  
“Fuck- oh god and then- I’m on my knees, kneeling, bending over with my head to the ground, ready to worship you, offer myself up to my god.” Loki was panting heavily, his cock throbbing when you resumed pumping it, base to tip. His pre had all my made a mess with how much he was producing. It begged the question if perhaps, you could maybe talk to him about edging. You’d read about it, and how it supposedly made even bigger orgasms- the idea of being cum soaked was absolutely depraved and you liked it. Like it so long as it was Loki.

“It’s a tight fit, I’ve neve been fucked there before. But we go slow. Inch by inch you sink into my ass, making me whimper and moan all for you. Eventually, you get every inch inside me and it feel so good. Can you imagine it Loki?” Your body was pressed to his, your hand pumping his cock while his hand griped the couch and the other griped you hair.   
“Can you image how good it’ll feel to be inside me? To know you’re the first man to take me that way? And when you fuck me- to know you’re the first man to make me cum so hard I cry because I want more?”

Red eyes shot open, and it took you by surprise. Everything is aesir but his eyes.   
“Love-“ That breathy sound from him, the strain on his voice betraying his desire.  
“You fill me completely.” You met his eyes, not stopping your verbal debauchery and imaginings. “And when I think I can’t take anymore you cum inside me. I scream and cry and beg for more because it feels so good. And you give it to me, fucking me through the orgasm, putting so much of your jizz in me that it leaks out, even around your cock. And when we’re finally done?” Loki’s pulse was racing, his eyes burning hot as you stared him down, letting him see that nothing you’re saying is a lie.

You want it.  
You want him.

“When we’re done you mark me up. So every jotun knows I’m your’s.” You pressed your mouth to his in a sudden kiss, the moan he made swallowed. He lost himself to your hand, hot cum decorating his torso as he finds his release. When the kiss ends you lick up his neck, making him shudder while your hands slowed their attentions, milking him for every drop he has.   
“Your mortal.” His head feel back, eyes closing as he smiled, bliss written in every feature.  
“I’m your songbird, your wildfire.” His cock gave a final twitch as grew semi soft in your hand. Loki was spent for now, and you felt proud. You once more, had reduced the proud king of the nine realms and one time villain to a puddle of goo. Lips kissed him softly for a moment, assuring him without words that you found the little session just know as pleasurable as he. Kisses given, you went to work cleaning up, taking your time to make a show of licking your cum covered hand clean as well a licking his cock. Not that Loki could do much about his desire again. Half hard, he decided to clense himself with magic and you tucked him away, leaning up to snuggle back into his side.

“We are quite terrible at this ‘taking it slow’ you know. I’m certain that when taken slow, lovers do not send their partners into erotic fits.” He mocked, content to lay back on the couch, pulling you so you laid on top of him. It was sweetly domestic in a way. His body was cool, a pleasant thing against you skin, and his hands were doing wonders on your tense back, massaging the muscles in confident touches.   
“Slow varies. For us.. sex is our weird.. cathartic I guess.” You smiled, resting and twirling your fingers into the loose ties of his tunic. “We need to use words better.”  
“I am the silver tongue, I don’t think-“  
“You know what I mean to egotistical deity.” He chuckled, and it felt nice. You could feel the vibrations in his chest, the tiny shake he gave when it threatened to become a laughter. “Our communication skills could be better.  
“Then let us start lover.” You inhaled a bit sharply at that pet name, and unknown to you Loki smirked at your reaction. It felt right to call you such. “We must discuss your venture tomorrow, unless you want to become the plaything of several other giants.”  
‘Do they have amazing cocks like your own?” Your jest is met with his scowl.   
“Mmm-“ You reached for one of his hands, bringing it up to your mouth, a gentle kiss places on his knuckles. “You do know I’m not interested in anyone else right?”  
“I am aware, but that exact comment is why we must speak of the ceremony and ritual lest you do begin to seek other lovers.” You blinked at him, shifting so to better look at his expressions. Loki had a good poker face, but his eyes betrayed him better than anything.

“Want to explain?”  
He does.

Apparently, the ritual is more than just fucking in the middle of a valley in a kinky public exhibitionism. It’s rather detailed ceremony with steps the book you’re read certainly hadn’t pointed out. It would begin with bathing in mountain water before having symbols for fertility, prosperity, life, and growth magically tattooed on you, (temporary, he assured you). After that, you would be dressed in an outfit of your choosing, meant to entire Loki. You would dance for him along with other giantesses, to lure him and making his lust mount. Then he’d chose from those present. The maiden, (which would obviously be you of course), would then be bound and brought before him as an offering. He would play the role of ruthless beast, intent on taking his unwilling bride.

It was all very harlequin novel set up.

But, when dragged before him, the ropes binding you would be cut, and you would be placed into ‘his’ tent. There, you would ‘escape’ running down the mountain only for him to chase you. The game was not a real chase, as the path was very clearly marked and you’d have a mount to ride for most of the distance. As you ‘ran’ down the mountain and into the valley, the pair of you would flirt, teasing one another. He, telling you the riches he’d offer, the ways he’d provide. You would refute them, asking for love and a richness in compassion and devotion. In this aspect the ceremony was a tad unique, as it was more symbolic than magic. The flirting, you suspected, would be very real.

That didn’t mean the magic wouldn’t be working however. By the time you reached the valley you and Loki would be aroused, heavily, and your body would be fertile if it wasn’t already. Aroused and lusting, Loki would ‘capture you, and word for word-  
‘I will take you and give you life, I claim you and give you winter’s embrace- absolute, and relentless. As you are my burning sun, and I your gentle snowfall. Let me chase the burning fear and desire from you, let me give you the life of our kind, the soft kiss of winter.’ To which you had to reply.  
‘Give me not the wealths of winter, but give me the love of life and the blessing of eternity.’ It was all very poetic, and one you replied, Loki was to-

“Mate.” He looked embarrassed saying it. “There is no way to phrase it differently. It is an antiquated mating rital that became more. While we may very well agree that only your delicious little ass will be mine to service and please, there is a very real chance we might both attempt more.”  
That was a bit alarming. “I doubt it we-“  
“Will be under the thrall of ancient magic. _Fertility_ magic. Don’t think I have not worried each time you pushed my seed into your sweet quim. No, I’ve been very aware and made sure to render it inert before leaving you.” Your turn to blush you tried to explain.  
“I didn’t- I mean I went to your healer and got some meds but I mean I wasn’t trying-“  
“I know my darling one.” He soothed, his hand running through your hair. “It was the heat of desire that drove you and I will say, it certainly has been the most erotic thing to dream of when apart from you.” You swatted his arm.  
“But- we’ll be jumped up on the equal of magic Viagra?” Loki’s confusion is plain.   
“I- Yes. Assuming that is what I think it is, yes. The magic will be strong, and while we will still have control, and you can very well still withdraw consent at any time, once we begin to be intimate, we might be compelled in our passions to couple traditionally. And that would be… very troubling.” Your lip bitten, you don’t know what to say to that. ‘Oh yeah, lets just go get magically drugged and fuck and we might inadvertently rape each other.’ Suddenly, the trip seems like a bad idea.

“Why… would it be bad? I mean the possible rape-ishness aside.”   
“Aside from the fact that we would not have planned for it? And it is a very questionable means of consent for us both? You **would** become pregnant.” His voice has become that strong one, the no nonsense Loki that means business. “If it were under normal means we might not have worry. There are means which to prevent such. Neither of us intend for there to be a child. But with fertility magic, once the child is sired, that is it. It **will** be born. The magic draws on a person’s own seidr to ensure conception and a safe and healthy birth. It is why such magic is very closely monitored in it’s use.”  
“Otherwise it could be used for-?”  
“Exactly. Most Midgardians have seidr but never touch it. It’s a small pool, but with fertility magic it is more than enough. And while I adore you, and do wish to see what our future might bring-“  
“A child is not something either of us want right now.” The sudden image of a cute baby- his dark hair, your eyes, that smile he has on a little baby’s face- popped into your mind. The sudden feminine flush you feel is probably a sign that god doesn’t exist because never with anyone have you ever had a sudden case of ‘baby fever’.  
“…Fuck we’d have a cute kid though.” You buried your face into his chest in open and honest embarrassment. It took a moment, but when Loki realized what had you flustered, his laughter was loud and his entire body shook from the intensity.  
“You truly- You’d have a child with me?” He looked mild surprised.  
“I.. fuck, yes okay?” You mumbled. “Not right now but… if we did become a couple and were official I would want kids. I mean, I have wanted them but I’ve never thought about having them with someone before.”

When you look up at Loki there was a strange look on his face. Shock, wonder, awe- its all those but not quite. You can’t place it before he’s smiling.  
“So, as your kind would say…” His pause made you fearful of what sort of thing will come from his mouth next. “I make your baby maker hot for daddy?” Your squeal of indignation is burning with embarrassed rage as he has the gall to say such a thing.   
“I can’t believe you just said that!” You hit him in the chest playfully, not wanting to think how yes, the idea of him pumping you full of cum with the intent to have a child is more than just a turn on. The idea of a child, with him doesn’t seem like an entirely bad thing. “I swear, this better not be when I find out you have a daddy kink.”  
You glance up to look at him, and the grin he sported is more than enough of an answer.  
“Oh my god is there any kink you don’t like?”  
“I’ve had over a thousand years to sample the various means of sexual gratification wildfire, Very few things I dislike in the bedroom.” He tugged you up you your face was nestled into his neck, his breath running into your hair as he whispered salaciously.   
“Has my little girl been good?” You hate how you didn’t even have a daddy kink, but the man’s voice is too sinful, and as a result, the small pulse in your cunt is painful in it’s betrayal.  
“Daddy will reward you if you behave and let him finish explaining the ritual.” His one hand was being innocent- rubbing your own, thumb massaging your wrist and pulse. The other hand? Creeping down your back, threatening to grope your ass.  
“Well little girl? Will you be good for daddy?” He’s definitely trying to see if this is the way to go. Bastard was making you play into it.   
Fuck the asshole, it worked too.   
“Yes.”   
“Yes what my darling?” Your pussy throbbed, and you hated it, looking from your spot to glare at him.  
“Yes _daddy_.” His breath is heavy and you could him get half hard under you.  
“Now, as I was saying-“ You would hit him next time he tried to make himself your ‘daddy’. 

You much preferred him as your god and king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for being patient with the wait! I will admit, I hadn't planned on the pregnancy angle, but, i couldn't resist. I will be clear though, that unless it appears in the tags, it's not planned/happening. That said, I have added a 'breeding kink' tag, due to the nature of the next chapter.
> 
> PS: We're going full jotun dick.


	16. Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In where you realize there is a choice to make, and a fate to defy. And where Loki realizes what he must do if he ever wants to be what he is.

Waking up half naked in your bed you almost hoped that you’d have company. But no, you didn’t. After spending the afternoon with Loki, cuddling and discussing the trip to Jotunheim, you had a light dinner followed with some very heavy petting that may have involved a very satisfying session of grinding on each other until you both had gotten some form of release. Not that you would tell Lys, who had apparently heard some of your rather vocal noises of pleasure before Loki left your parlor with a shit eating grin wider than the Mississippi was long. 

Waking up the morning after, missing your top, you recalled how the night had ended, much to your embarrassment.

Loki had physically left, but when you changed into your sleep wear, he’d returned. At least, somewhat.  
“So let me get this right.” Loki stood at the foot of your bed, shirtless, Aesir, pants tented and a look in his eyes that was positively the most mischievous you’d seen in a while.  
“You can just- physically send an illusion various of yourself anywhere?” He held his hands out, as if placating.   
“Nearly everywhere. I can’t very well project myself to Midgard or another realm, but across the palace? That is very much so in my abilities.” Picking up your hairbrush, you chucked it at the golden lines man watching in strange fascination as it went right though the image of your lover, clattering to the ground. Loki, just sighed, shoulders lifting then sagging as you walked to him, digging a finger into the image and swirling it, the glittering gold light dancing on your skin.  
“You know I can’t feel that.” You bit your lip looking down and then at his face, teasing as you dipped your fingers along the outline of his groin.  
“Pity. Would be fun to suck you off via magic.” Loki groaned, hands fisting then letting go.  
“As tempting as it is to teleport over there and spend myself in that filthy mouth, I had a better idea for tonight’s game.” Pulling back, light Loki went to your bed, patting, (or looking like he was patting) the sheets.  
“I want to watch you pleasure yourself.” Your bruch was quick to rise and you scoffed.   
“Loki, you’ve seen me-“  
“No.” His voice had taken an imperious tone, a commanding order that made your heart race. The voice of a king. “I want to see you as you would do without me, how you pleasure yourself not for an audience, but for your own pleasure.”

Your choked gasp was met with his salacious smile, eyes flicking between you and the bed. The man was insatiable. You’d sucked him off earlier, grinded on him until you both came, and now he wanted to be a magical voyeur. Fuck this man and his libido and how it made your own body sing in response. Biting your lip, you’d climbed into bed, not putting on much of a show as you slipped over the covers, spreading your legs wide so he could see the outline of your sex.   
“Delicious.” Loki muttered, circling around the bed so he could get the best view. “Now take off those garments. I need to see that slick cunt punished for being so tempting.”  
You had been coy, and really had wanted to sleep- Loki was just horny and while yes, you did want to kind of put on a show for him, get him nice and frustrated, you also wanted to at least not be sore and able to well... leave the option open should you and he decide that anal wasn’t on the menu or you wanted something a bit… deeper.

“Loki.” You had moaned, snuggling up on the covers. “Not until after the trip.”  
You winked, giggling as he stood, aroused, shimmering in the illusion and unable to stop you as you bolted under bedding, ignoring his stare. The illusion of you lover was wicked, storming up to your side, a hard threat in his words.   
“You will regret not helping me relieve my needs tonight my darling. Your ass will be the most delightful toy for me tomorrow.”  
You dreamed of him bending you over the throne and spanking you until you came. 

 

Now the day of the trip, Lys has gone mildly insane packing. There were no fancy gowns just thick wool garments. Cloaks, boots, tunics, leggings- you felt like a soon to be puffed up ball of wool and cotton. The leather bracers were to help keep things insulated and tight, as well as help protect from the ice that covered most of the land in Jotunheim. Loki said he’d meet you at the Bifrost, so breakfast was filled with the swirling rumors of you and Loki’s relationship. And just the reason for the trip.

“So-“ One of the ladies enquired, “-You are to be his snow maiden? I heard that it has to be a giantess.”  
“I heard-“ another woman spoke up, “-that he’s to sire a heir for the people of Jotunheim. Taking his place as their king and all.”  
“You think his majesty would sire and child now? Much less on the woman he’s only been courting a few months? Hardly! I bet he has a trick or two planned to evade the ritual and just enjoy a nice… vacation with his Midgardian pet.” The woman winked at you. She wasn’t being malicious. But her phrases could easily be so. Such was the ignorant bigotry of Asgardians. 

“Loki and I discussed it. We plan to… satisfy the needs of the ritual. Though neither of us intend to have a child so soon. Though, if one did happen…” You smile, teasing. One woman took it at face value however, and soured the whole thing.  
“It would be a short and sad life to be the king’s mistress. Your son first born but unable to even be seen amongst the nobility, I could never imagine such a fate.” There was no malice you told yourself, yet your rage and fury rose the same.  
“Loki wouldn’t have a mistress if he decided he’d not recognize our child. I-“ You bit back the truth. That you’d not stay if he didn’t love you. That even if you had his child, you’d never let him push them aside. “I would put my son’s best interests first. And if that meant leaving Asgard, I would do so without hesitation.” The women gasped, asking how you could do such a thing, after all, it would be Loki’s child too-  
“I don’t think any of you get it.” You stabbed the meat link on your plate. “Unless Loki was willing to raise our child together, to support our child, I wouldn’t let him near our child. I wouldn’t raise my son or daughter in a place where they would be seen or treated as lesser.”

You ate, and finished your meal in furious silence, the women no longer prodding and asking questions.

By the time you’re at the Bifrost, your self-righteous rage and fury is mixed deeply with your feelings for Loki, who stood at the gateway to space with a grin.  
“My love.” His coo was gentle, and from the corner of your eye you could swear you saw Heimdall’s tiny grin. “Thank you for coming.” Was the soft whisper spoken in your hair as your lover leaned down, a kiss pressed to your crown. 

“King Loki,” still, the gatekeeper would not call Loki his king, “Lady.” Heimdall looked at you as he opened the Bifrost and you swore you heard his voice before the hum of the rainbow bridge took you to another world.  
“Remember, you hold the power, and you are the only one who can control the king.”

The words were a rather chilling thing, but they seemed almost warm when the cold hit you in full force, stealing the air from your lungs.   
“Welcome my love,” Loki sang out, joyful, “to Jotunheim. Now let’s-oh. My apologies.” He was grinning as your entire body was shaking uncontrollably, no amount of fur of wool able to fend off the freezing bite. “Now- that’s better.”  
A kiss to your forehead was wall it took, and the cold sudden vanish, your body shaking now from the shock of it all. “Loki-“  
He hummed, looking quite pleased with himself. “A heat spell. Now, it should feel and be no more cold to you than it is I. No risk of frost bite either. It will last us for the trip and oh-“ His look was too sensual to be written off. “-do not think I have no plans to ravish you in the snow while it’s working.”  
The heat of your blush helped warm you up right quick.

 

It was… interesting meeting the Frost Giants. They had the same cobalt skin, but the lines on their bodies, the hair, the horns- all were so different; even their eyes were of varying shades and hues of red. They also towered well over you, and the thought of Loki being so large and fucking you like that? The thought was a terrible one to have because when you had it and several giants looked to you, grinning, Loki had finally told you.  
Frost giants had a keen sense of smell, and from the growing wetness of your cunt, they knew very well what dirty little thoughts had begun to creep in your head.  
In an effort to save face, you had said exactly what had caused the sudden rush of desire.   
“Well, it’s hard to not wonder how big they might be and well.” You smiled, the red never leaving your face. However the insinuation that Loki might somehow be smaller then his full sized others, made his scowl and he even went so far as to growl, tugging you closer and making a point to glare at the men nearby.

“And they called me the god of mischief. If I didn’t know better, you were trying to steal my title from me.” He later said, setting your and his things down in what amounted to a very cozy tent.   
“You’re an unwed woman, fertile, and expressing your lust so open and brazenly, right at the cusp of the fertility ceremony. It’s almost you want to start a riot of who will get to fuck you and breed you.” The words sent a delicious rush of want right to your center- the effect compounded when Loki shed his Asgradian form, red eyes dark and dangerous. “Oh- you like that don’t you?” He stalked towards you, licking his lips. He seemed larger here, as if when he’d taken his form in Asgard, he was not all that much bigger.  
“You like tempting me to ravish you, fuck you and pump you full of my seed.” His voice was low, and Loki knew exactly what it was doing to you. “You want it don’t you? My cock fucking you and filling you until your round and heavy with my child?” Your mouth was dry and Loki was being mean. You both knew it.  
“You best be warned, if you do not stop me, I just might take you and make you mine permanently.”

Your voice came back just for a moment. “Who says I want to stop you?”   
Loki took in a sharp inhale, eyes widening and he backed away as if he’d been burned. “I- Oh my wildfire.” He moaned, and then you saw the very large erection held tightly behind his leggings. “You best attend the women’s initiation ceremony, else I’ll bend you over right here, ritual be damned.”

You winked at him, blushing as you left his tent, seeking out the one filled with women. It didn’t take long, word already having spread about the King’s chosen maiden, his little human. But the initiation ceremony wasn’t what you expected.  
“Oh norns- you are really are small aren’t you?” One of the women said, head tilting as she looked you up and down. “He might break you before the ceremony is over-“  
“Come now, she’s not so small. A good size for him- she’ll just be tight. A good cunt for his seed to take.” The women joked.. though you got the feeling it wasn’t a joke.  
“I heard he’s going to fully expose his form to us- and oh… Think he might change his mind? I heard his horns are massive.”  
“Bigger than Laufey’s?”  
“Longer and bigger- his cock too!” They laughed and joked but- wasn’t this supposed to be a ceremony?  
“Uh-“ You tried to get their attention. “I was told there was a ceremony. To get ready?” Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to get their attention and act like you belonged, because even with Loki’s warming spell, the looks were frigid.

“I don’t see how it matters. Once it becomes clear you won’t be able to complete the ritual, he’ll have to take one of us.” “Nothing to worry about, not like he intends to claim you.” “Why would we help you? We certainly don’t want a mortal queen.” 

Woah, now, Loki mentioned a kid if you both were not careful. He said nothing about being a queen post ritual.  
“Can- look. Loki and I are-“ You paused, uncertain, “-lovers. We are doing this. So what’s the ceremony? I don’t plan to have his child or anything, just suck him off.” That was the wrong thing to say, as the frost giant woman all but snarl. 

“The king, our usurper king at that, flounces ritual and ceremony. You know why we entertain him?” You’re scared now, and you shake your head.   
“Because after killing Laufey, his younger brother took the throne. We didn’t know then- but when he came back? Both his brothers vanished, and he claimed his bloodline and birthright. He’s all that’s left of Ymir’s line, and we can’t kill him. Worse, he won’t give us an heir so we can stop pandering to him. We need him, for his magic and his blood. Once we have that, he’s useless to us.”  
You shake, afraid and angry.   
“So? You all wanted him to pick and fuck you. Let me guess, get pregnant, you become queen?”  
“Yes.” One giantess hisses, larger than the rest. “Laufeyson should couple with one of us, secure his bloodline and leave us be. Instead he brings you, a mortal harlot who won’t even sire an heir. Even if his spawn was half Midgardian, at least then it would still be his. But no, he will deny us even that.”

This woman, these women, could kill you.  
But they can’t.  
They won’t.  
Because you are Loki’s chosen, and they need him. 

“How dreadful for you all. Now if you’re done trying to make me back off, tell me what I need to do to get ready. The less time I spend with a bunch of murderous whores the better.” You watch it like a cinematic. The women do snarl, ice crackling as they form weapons. Only the larger woman who stands in front of you says nothing.  
And when she lifts her hand, the other women stand down. Without a word, they silently leave you alone in the tent.

You feel like crying, like screaming, like telling Loki you’re done. Besides, they don’t like him, why help them.   
But you can’t, you won’t. You want to see it to the end, you want to have Loki make love to you.

That’s when the realization kicks in.  
You’re in love with him.

Not infatuated, not developing feelings for- it’s there. Already. Not a possibility of, but are. You’re in love with him. It’s why him gone hurt so much, it’s why he made you smile just by looking at you, its how come the idea of him and other women made you so angry.  
You’re in love with him and you want to be with him. Permanently. That why this didn’t scare you. The thought of becoming pregnant didn’t phase you. You wouldn’t care. You wanted to be with him. Heart breaking, you know that today, in a few hours, you’ll have to make a choice. Be his, give up the game and accept the consequences and a life as very likely, his mistress and nothing more in the eyes of his court- Or play the game, and end up on earth when all was said and done, with nothing to show for it.

You looked to the scented oils and outfits left behind by the jotun women.   
A third option.

You dress not in a dress, but in silk sashes, tying your body up like a prize. You apply makeup as best you can, decorate your body in jewels and gold dust. Loki is a king, expected to take a queen. He’s a man, who thinks he controls his life and defies fate.  
But you’re a woman.  
A human woman who would defy everything. Fate, death, her place, expectation- you’d defy it all.  
Marching from the tent you made you way to the main camp, knowing Loki would be there. You make your choice, and will rely on Loki to make his. 

As you march to your goal, giants turn to stare. You are alien to them, you reek of sex and desire. Honey and smoke- you are Loki’s wildfire, burning for him. Uncontrollable, untamed. You will burn everything in your way, consume all in your path. Each step you take in the snow is a soft crunch.

You don’t notice how it melts, leaving behind a perfect indent of your foot. 

You entire body is humming, ready for him, to face him, challenge him. You are afraid, but you can’t be. You can’t let it stop you. Amora waits on earth, ready to kill you, to take control, start a war. The frost giants are waiting for an heir, to kill Loki, and take back control. Asgardians wait, expecting you to fade and die, their king’s infatuation fading along with your vitality.

You don’t notice how your begin to glow golden, a shimmering veil surrounding you. 

The giants begin to whisper, and hum of sound drowned out by the heart beating in your chest, thundering in your ears. They part like the red sea, blue and imposing. Before you is his tent, marked with symbols of his office. Gold and green- his colors reflected in the thick covering of cloth that makes his temporary home. The colors that surround you in silk, an offering wrapped, waiting for it’s intended. You smile, and if knowing a jotun male rushes into Loki’s tent. The women are not supposed to be here, you are not supposed to be here. This is not tradition. This is not ceremony. This is not how it is supposed to go.

As Loki comes out, a few giants suck in their breath. You’re warm. Hot. Burning- the gold around you brightens in it’s intensity and the snow melts at your feet. You do not notice because all you see is him. Tall, his Asgardian form gone, replaced by the azure that fills your dreams and fantasies. His eyes their brilliant red, wide in awe of you. Each bump and grove in his skin is a beloved mark, a measure of his beauty and unique self. His clothes are gone, save a golden tabard, runes embroidered in green and black. His horns are polished to gleam, and from them hand strands of gold, crystals dancing here and their from spider thin strands. Some float near his brow- a crown of crystal and ice for a king dressed in gold and glory. You see him, and feel your heart swell up. This was it. You knew it. 

You knew this- this moment, this small pause of time in the universe, so small, so short. This was your’s. You created it. You controlled it. You made it. You, not other. You had burned the threads of fate, cut them, tangled them into a knot that could not be undone. You trapped fate and burned it until nothing was left but uncertainty. Nothing but chaos.  
Nothing but your love for a man who made you want more than you ever might have dreamed.

“Love-“ That word. The title. Soft, it fell from his lips like a prayer, and it was your answer. It was you. His love, his wildfire. The woman he had shown a kindness to, a cruelty towards, a lust and love so intermixed that where one stopped the other began, yet it couldn’t stop for it would not. Loki, a man who gave himself to his passions and wants with such intensity no one could hope to match. Loki, a man, killed, remade, reborn. A man who cheated death over and over, who’s mischief shaped not only his world, but others. Who defied his fate and challenged his birth.   
Loki, a man who claimed he loved you, now who would face the consequences of his selfish, wanting, hopeless love.

“Loki Odinson,” You call out to him, his eyes widening. Your voice vibrates the air, power rippling through all present. You still do not notice it. But he does. He feels it inside him, calling. He feels you, radiating and radiant. You, his love, his wildfire, his dream. You are smiling as you see him glowing. You can only see him. Nothing else matters. It can burn and turn to ash. All you see is your lover, your hope and light in a world where there is only cold and dark.  
“Born Laufeyson,” The area swells with magic, thick in the air to the point Loki can taste it. Honey and smoke. It’s nothing he’s felt before. All magic has a feeling, a sense. A taste and flavor. No giant held such magic. No Asgardian. It is your magic. You are the one who has called it, who commands it. It is wild magic, uncontrolled, untamed and it terrifies him. You terrify him. You, a mortal woman who has never once used magic now weild power so great it began to bring giants to their knees, trembling in awe of the sheer force you command.   
The winter storm howls, coming to your call, swirling snow around you, the camp, everything. Loki felt his heart pounding. This is insane, it’s madness. It’s chaos. It’s you. 

“King of Asgard,” Your step closer made Loki gasp. From your feet, snow vanishes in warm steam. Grass and flowers growing in your wake. It should not be happening. You shouldn’t be able to do this. Use this magic. Life magic, wild magic. You have somehow taken the ritual, twisted it, used it. It is not the ritual of Jotunheim. It is your ritual now. But ritual it is not. It’s is an awakening. A bloom, and blossom coming to unfurl and show it’s beauty. You are no longer just a mortal, you are making yourself to become something more.  
“Heir of Jotunheim” The winds rise, cascading in their movements, pushing at his back, urging him closer, to go to you. Yet he’s afraid. He wants to, but he no longer knows what will happen. Magic so uncontrolled could rip the both of you apart.  
“Allfather,” You’re beautiful he thinks. The magic has shown your soul, your radiance. Loki has seen and lived among gods but you surpass them. You have risen above them, inspite of everything. Not in body- in mind, in spirit, in your soul.   
“God of Lies,” He loves you, he wants you to stay by his side. He doesn’t want to give you up, send you back. Midgard be damned, Amora be damned, he craves you, your smile, your laughter, your voice your touch- he needs you now. He has forgotten how much he hates to be alone. You cure him of that just by being near, by smiling for him.  
“God of Mischief,” Madness surrounds the camp as Loki watches them panic, weapons drawn. Yet when they come close they are pushed back by the wind, by snow. You are safe, protected. You are fearless and brave. You are making a mockery of everything, all they expected, all they thought you capable of. It makes Loki’s heart swell with pride. Adoration. Love.

“God of Chaos.” Your voice is clear, strong. You are in command. As he stands across from you he feels the shift. The magic become a part of you. It sinks into your skin, yourself, your soul. You are more than what you were. 

“I, (y/n), of Earth also known as Midgard, Lover, Wildfire- release you of your oaths to me.” 

Loki feels it. A snap, tension in the air and the bonds between you break into a thousand pieces, leaving behind only memories and words. Yet, you smile, you smile so warm and knowing. Maybe you do. Maybe you understand he thinks, of what will happen now that he is no longer under the geas of the bond. 

A golden rose glows from your palm. The mark of the oath manifesting before vanishing into a cascade of petals to the ground at your feet.

 

“Loki.” His name beacons his attention, and he gives it, caught in your eyes. You reach up, undoing the ties that held the makeshift silk on your body. As they fall, you feel heat radiate through you, watch Loki’s gaze drink you in, his eyes darkening.  
You made your choice, now it is time for him to make his own.  
It’s time to ruin a ritual.

Ýou want him. Not his crown, not his powers, not a kingdom or a title.  
You want Loki, the man who would make you smile even when you felt most alone.  
He words echo in the camp, everyone on edge, waiting.  
“I will take you and give you life, I claim you and give you my embrace- uncontrollable, and untamed. As you are my frozen heart, and I your gentle love. Let me chase the burning fear and desire from you, let me give you the life of my kind, the soft kiss of love.”

Loki’s eyes widen and he sees what you do not.

He sees you waken to something he himself experienced once before.  
He sees divinity.  
He sees you become a goddess.

The magic is pulling, begging. He knows if he does not act, it will be lost, you will be lost, and he will never have you. Never get you back, not again.

“‘Give your love not for life of your kind, but give me your love and life with the blessing of eternity.”

Your smile is wicked. The magic hums.

 

“Earn it, my king.”  
You turn and run. Through the trees, down the mountain towards the valley. You laugh and cry in joy. This is your fate, the one you would make, full of uncertainty and chaos and with him. You chose this.  
You chose him. You run for him.

You run, and Loki follows the burning steps left in your wake.


	17. Soul

Thunder. The echo resounded through the valley like an orchestra, clashing and banging, demanding attention. Yet for all it’s bluster, none could care, because there was a song playing for the people of a world of ice and fog, and it’s conductor was a women who was becoming more than mortal. The song was made of magic and fate being torn apart and remade. It was a song of passion and purpose, written by a woman in response to chains of her station. A song of chaos and life, new and unknown, mysterious and wonderful. Love were the notes, cascading and reaching a fever pitch as the icy storm howled in celebration at the ruin of ancient ritual and rite.

A song that made the blood in Loki sing, for chaos called to him, a moth to a flame he was for it. 

As you ran down the slope of the mountain, you could feel the heat of the man behind you. He should have reached you with ease, yet he held back. Not out of courtesy, but out of wonder. Each step you took melted the ice and snow, revealing the brown earth under it, grass blooming, blossoming under it. A nymph of lore and myth, you danced through leafless trees, bare and broken branches, unknowingly making them bud with new leaves and vitality. Loki was headless to stop it, powerless to control it.  
Magic trailed after you like a phantom lover, gracing you with it’s company, giving you all you wanted and demanding nothing back.

As you ran down, you didn’t see the trail of green fresh life following you, only the land before you, white, blue, and grey. An expanse of winter, you were a scion of spring. The contrast, the alternate. Where here no life grew, you were blossoming into yourself. You were waking, being born.

Loki was the god of mischief, born to his divinity by his actions and mind. Thor had come to his godhood with birth and a power found. Odin was a being who’d inherited his gifts, and Frigga one who gained hers by title and task.  
Loki watched as you grew into your divinity, as the magic changed you without changing you, as you simply went from his mortal love to something beyond even him. God were not mortals, not from the race of men- yet as you danced over snowdrifts, and you dashed over ice, you remained a singularity, a creature that defied all know convention, a being who defied the laws by which Loki and all of the nine realms were ruled by.

You, who had called him love, chosen, had managed to cut the threads of fate, and take them, remaking the tapestry to one that suited you. You had changed. You had also changed everything. You had taken chaos as a lover, mischief as your desire, the lies of a life and made them your own. You had become wildfire- the aspect his Asgardian self never gained, yet fates had called him upon his birth and had passed to the volva that spun the tale of Ragnarök. You had become a goddess by embracing the god that would end the nine realms and herald their rebirth. 

He knew it. Deep in his soul, in his heart, he knew this day would come. That fate, ever denied one thing, would find a way to get it in another fashion. Sigyn was a woman who had long rejected him, a fable, a myth of a woman who did not exist for him. No good Asgardian man named their daughter knowing she would be Loki’s fated, Loki’s wife. So there was no goddess of fidelity. No weaver patron, no chaos lover and forgiver for the man who would bring one day Asgard’s ruin.

Yet you, so radiant, so wonderful and adoring, had loved him. Did love him. Wanted him, embraced him, accepted him.  
You had taken the divinity that none had- and become something more.

Your laughter echoed with the thunder, and Loki felt his blood sing in reply. His entire being was humming with power, energy, lust. All fates came to pass. All rituals were done. How such things came to be simply was, and Loki knew this. Chaos changed the rules, and made them new, but even chaos is a fated thing.  
You are his fated and as he leaps down through the treeline, your form reaching the meadow where he will take you, he finds that he yearns for this fate. All others he might cast aside, but the fate that gives him you is one he will accept and embrace, because it is the one fate he knows he will be made worthy. Worthy of the woman who became more than what she was.

Your legs burn and your chest aches from your mad run, and when you paused, slowing your dash across the snowy field, you looked back, only to see Loki standing behind you, dark hair wild, eyes lusting and filled with promise. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and he glowed gold, a halo of light, of divinity surrounding him.

“Eternity.” He said, lips curling into a grin, his teeth now more like fangs. “You will be mine for eternity if I take what you offer.” Your heart is louder than thunder, louder than howling winds.  
“I know.” Reaching out to cup his face, he was not cold so much tepid. His skin was soft as you remembered it, and the lines that marked him had him shudder when the pads of your fingers traced over them. Loki was at your mercy, and you adored him for it. To submit to you, to give to you without words the one thing you wanted. “I’m not afraid.” Not anymore, not of him, not of what the future might have for you if you stay by his side.

He is not a good man, perhaps he will not be even a loyal one, if myth is anything to go by. But he will love you, adore you, cherish you, protect you and covet you. Loki is many things, wrapped in the shape of a man, but most of all he is passionate. And you have his passion matched with your own. Passion is his chaos.  
“You broke our deal.” The hurt in his voice was real and you couldn’t help it. The giggle that left you was sincere, and his frown was childish.  
“I did.”  
“Why?” Why break the one thing that kept him a decent, honorable man? Why cast off the thing that held you so tightly to him.  
“Because I love you.”

The admission stole his breath, and it stole your reason.  
“I love you, and making a transaction of my love is cheap and worthless.” You held his face, tall as he is, and made him bend down so you could kiss his lips. He tasted like snow. Fresh and clean. Then, in that moment, he is exposed, raw. You knew this, yet there was a final mask he wore, one he needed to remove before you would give him the thing you have kept from him.  
“Tell me.” His eyes showed fear, hesitation, yet you drew him in for another kiss. Soft and light, you linger, wanting him to know it is okay to be afraid, alright to have fear and caution. He is a man scarred, and you asked for much. So much that you felt that if he denied you, your heart truly would break.  
“Tell me the truth.”  
His laugh is good. It’s the happy kind of laugh, the one you make when you don’t care about anything else but the joy inside you.  
“You ask much from a god of lies.” He smiled, knowing he was stalling, that you both are nervous. Not afraid, not really, only nervous.  
“I ask only for what I deserve.” His motion was a smooth one, the click of the tabard’s buckle ringing out as it fell to the ground. 

“I love you, (y/n).” It is truth. It was what you needed. It was the thing he professed but never said. Now it hung in the air, free, known, and you grinned.  
“I love you. You are my wildfire, my love, the woman who holds me without hate or fear, the one who would embrace me as monster and man, you, who burned the tapestry and fate and made her own.”  
Your hands left his face, pulled down so he could hold them in his own.  
“You are my love. My goddess. My fate and fortune.”

The kiss stole reason- and it made something in you burn.  
You needed him.  
You needed Loki, and you wanted him without anything holding you back.

Slowly, he lowered you to the ground, the green earth at your feel covered by a frost- by the magic pulling from him. Yet it felt like silk, soft and warm. In red eyes you saw lust, passion and love mixing into a heady desire for you- and it made your nerves lite up, ready for his touch, his command.

“Nothing will stop me now sweet one.” He growled, voice low and threatening, doing a number to the growing wetness between your thighs. “I will take you, and from this moment on, you will be mine.” Loki’s hands wasted no time, running along your body until they found your breasts, fingers running over the dusky tips, flicking them as they stood in the cold air. It was something so light, so teasing, yet it made you whimper from want. Perhaps Loki knew how much such a simple touch might waken your lust and need for him, because he grinned, not stopping his handsy attentions.

The soft pinch and pulls became rhythmic, and back and forth between almost pain and soothing tenderness. As he made blood rush to them, he would stop, pause, letting you relax before resuming his touches. By the time he had made both the little nubs grow tender, you were a whimpering mess, your pussy wet and bordering dripping.  
But of course, Loki did not stop there. No, he had months of pent up lust, months of his mind forming ways to erotically torment you and so he would, first as a man, then a sorcerer, then as a god. He would ruin you for all others, he intended to ruin your desire for anyone but him. 

Head bending, you still gasped and arched into his mouth as wet tongue flicked the peaked tips, warming them before the air sent them to be chilled. A lick, and he would pause, letting sensation run over you. Then he’d do it again. Back and forth between your breasts, making sure both were well attended before he changed his tactics. A soft suckle- his mouth latched on, tugging and pulling with suction as if you had something to give. His licks had been downright pleasant in comparison to his sucking, his attempts to make you tender and sore- sensitive and needy for his soothing touch.  
Coming away from one break with a pop, you gasped at how red it was, how swollen with blood. Loki only grinned, moving to the other nipple, repeating, occasionally raking his teeth along your sensitized flesh. As he sucked on the yet to be properly abused tit, his hand came up, pinching, pulling- making you whimper in pleasured pain and want for more. He played your nerves like instruments, creating a chorus of your soft sounds. 

Leaving your breasts, he admired his work- blood swelled under the skin, making flush with pink. Nerves hyper sensitive they make you gasp with the slight wind that ran across them.  
Tiny nips left behind, impressions and marks of his lust.  
His eyes were focused, and you wanted to know his thoughts, he feelings, his desired. A flick to glance at your face and he smiled. Only he could understand you without a single word spoken.  
“I imagine how you might be in the future.” He ran a hand against the side of your breast, reverent. “If you bore our children. You would swell and grow and nourish them.” His voice was soft, in awe. “You’d carry children- our children.” Red eyes were wet. Hope in his heart, on his sleeve. “Wouldn’t you?”

You reached up and pulled him into a kiss.  
“Yes.” A future with him- it was not so scary, not anymore, not knowing his confession, his love for you. “Not now.” He admitted, his cheeks a shade of violet. “But one day- when it is all settled, we will have a family.” A kiss- he dreamed of you, of this, of a future that did not end in fire and death. In Ragnarök.  
You would give it to him, to see him smile. 

It was… wonderful. To be in his arms, kissing him, and knowing it was real. The feelings were real. That what you had was genuine, despite what people said. You were not some dalliance, not some temporary thing. You were loved.  
You were going to stay.

Loki, jotun, a man who had stolen his place in the cosmos smiled, and then-  
“Now, my darling, it is time you give me what I’ve only tasted.” A wicked man, he pulled back, sliding down your body before he ended between your thighs, lifting them over his shoulder in obscene display. You slit was soaking wet, and Loki’s hungry look was chilling. You gasped when he pulled up, taking your hips with him, bending you so you rested on your upper back and shoulders while your cunt was level with his face.  
“God-“ he groaned. “-Your pussy is steaming hot.” He remarked, licking his lips in anticipation. “I hope you’ll forgive me love.” He sucked in a lungful of air, relishing the scent of your arousal. “I plan on making you cry for me.”

The first kiss was electric. Never had a man done that to you, never had they wanted to- not until him. Kissing up and down your slit, Loki’s lips and chin came away wet much to your embarrassment. But he couldn’t care less. After kissing you he took your lips into his mouth, licking and sucking on the soft folds and moaning against you as he tasted what you’d only offered from your fingers.  
Every inch of your outer lips his worshiped- because how else did one describe the reverence that he paid to your body? As his tongue finally came, sliding up and down, teasing your hole you gasp and moaned, panting his name into the wind. No fingers, he only tormented with his mouth and tongue, determined to coax you to orgasm from his silver tongue no doubt. 

As your writhed on the ground, lifted by his hands cupping you ass, Loki licked and sucked you like a man dying of thirst. How long had he wanted that? To hold you, put his face between your thighs and make you cry out his name in prayer and passion? Too long, your mind answered. Too long he’d been wanting, left teased and tormented by your own stubbornness, your pride and playfulness. Too long, because he wanted the agony of your refusal so that the gift of your body would be one he would prove himself worthy for.  
His tongue pushed into you, drawing out each wave of slick, swallowing it down as he would indulge, sucking on your clit when your pussy failed to leave him with a mouth of slick feminine cream. Over and over, he drew your flavor into himself, savoring the sweetness, the sharp tang that was you. Ambrosia he would call it, pulling away to grin as you panted, trying to fight to reclaim stolen breaths. 

He made you ride the edge of euphoria, orgasm teetering on the edge as he made you come so close, just to pull away. Tears eventually made their home in your eyes and you cried out, begging him, reaching for him- don’t stop, never stop- His name a chant.  
Loki Loki Loki- he was cold and cruel in the command, the order that bend your to him as he reached out to you and held you, exerted dominion over you- his chosen, his wildfire.  
“Cum.” 

Stars illuminated your eyes, and fire danced on grass, leaving behind charred black. Yet the heat and flames did not make either of you panic. This was natural, this was a dance of fire and ice. Chaos and control- a god exerting his dominion as it’s mindful master, a goddess dancing to the strings of her heart and soul. Loki was a god of chaos, and let you cry for him, orgasm brilliant and beautiful. Your pussy clenching on air as you shook in his hold, wet fem cum running down your legs too quick to be licked away by a hungry lover.

Soaked, tender from his lips and tongue, your clit was swollen- so easily abused and brought to pleasure now- Loki Silvertongue made your mind melt into molten gold- honey sweet words drifting you back to reality as he lowered you to the earth.  
The liquid of your sex bringing back the green grass, flowers taking root were each drop his soil. They bloomed under you, a blanket of petals and pollen, sweet scents mixing with the hot smell of sex and fire. Loki stared down at you, smiling in a dazed bliss from release, arms reaching out for him, wanting to embrace him.

He was helpless to refuse you, climbing to be above you, wrapping your arms around him as he shared the taste of wildfire and fate with you- the taste of you, his love, his goddess.

The hot hard press of his cock refused to abate, rubbing against your still slick thigh, reminding you of his need, your need- he ritual broken, replaced, remade. You didn’t care what it foretold. What the milky white drop of pre that landed from his tip to your clit, slipping into your body in a shimmer of gold. Magic was wild and untamed; you were wild and untamed. You held Loki in your arms, kissing him and smiling as you closed your eyes, dreaming of him, of the future- of hope for tomorrow.

“My love.”

His words- a promise, a truth from the liar god. “I love you-“ He pulled up, spreading your legs around his waist, cock hot while his body remained cool and cobalt. Red eyes danced with desire and lust as he carried the cocksure grin of a trickster.  
“-And from now on, I will make sure all in the nine realms knows it.” There is no great fanfare, no pain of penetration. Only the smooth glide of him inside you, walls parting and swallowing each inch as he gives it.  
“You are the woman I love.” He gasps, watching blue flesh slipping into his lover- into you. You take him, all of him, perfectly. Tight, slick, heat- your core fits him, strokes him with each beat of your heart and clench of your muscles. You feel like you were born for him- not because of a claim- but completion. Never before has he been with someone who made him feel whole- like a part of him he did not even know was missing was now returned.  
Love, Loki realizes with startling clarity.

Never has he made love to a woman- never has he been with a woman who he loved unconditionally with his whole being.

The revelation shocks him to his core, and laughing as he hilts himself, finally inside you in entirety, tears spill over his cheeks. How long has he knows the prophecy? His death and ruin of Ragnarok? Too long- So long he’d given up hope of happiness. Lost his dreams and desires. He’d accepted a place on Asgard- secondary, a tool, a temporary placeholder. Adequate, but never perfect, never enough. Yet you- You he does not have to fight his nature, who he is. You do not care how well he runs a kingdom, (he would give you all it’s riches), you do not care for all the finery or trappings of his rank, (you laugh in the face of his nobility, his royal blood no matter it’s source), you pay no mind to his magic might or skill, (you care for his laughter, his smile and joy in such small things), you want nothing from him.  
From him, all you want, all you ask for, is him.

Loki- not a god, not a king, not a prince or even a man. Loki- who he is, as he is.

You give him what he dreamed to find yet thought he would never have.  
Love.  
You love him, and it makes him weep for joy as you give yourself to him in this act of love and passion. In a ritual for life from death. You love, him, knowing he will never let you go.

Tears shine on his cheeks as he looks down at you, smiling, a hand at where you both are joined, your words spurring him to action.  
“Take me.”

 

Hips move in timeless dance, in and out, back and forth, twist, turn, swirl and grind- he makes love to you, changing to make you weep in bliss over and over- you are a newly woken goddess, riding magic of creation- he is a god, already grown to his mantle, wielding his magic and the chaos that is sex to keep going, long after you have reached your peak.

It lasts so long- his cock fucking you with abandon, Red eyes wild in hunger- and Loki it nothing but determined to see you shine for him. See your godhood glowing, rising to the surface of your skin. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes obscenely loud in the valley, and you can feel the eyes of the frost giants upon you and their king- your god.

It makes you keen, crying out at the remembrance that you are being watched, witness as Loki fucks you, as he makes you cum like a whore on his cock. Your thighs and ass are coated in sexual fluids, the flowers under your hips glowing a gold as they drink in your pleasure. You don’t even notice, too busy watching the thick blue flesh of Loki’s member violate the abused mound of your sex. A single touch to your clit is enough to send you over the edge, and you cling to the earth, thrusting into Loki as he refuses to give you pause.  
From one orgasm into another, Loki makes you cum. He will not give himself, allow himself release until it is time- and soon you know, it will be. 

It’s like knowing when to stand in the sunlight on a fall day. Knowing what bite of food to save for last. Knowing just that moment to kiss him, so he knows you love him.

He feels it too, an itch ready, waiting to be scratched. But he need to see it- to know for certain.

It comes without warning- his name screamed to the sky as you bend, grabbing him, holding him as you bend yourself, hilting on his cock and refusing to let him go.

He does not cream nor cry out- it is a soft sound. A sigh of bliss, of satisfaction as he finds release.  
He saw it.  
A single shining moment where you were golden- green earth all around you, haloed by charred earth. Wildfire.- the black earth. Fate- golden magic, glowing from your very being.  
Fertility- life blooming, reborn and renewed with your love.

His cum fills you, debauched wet sounds ringing out as he fucks you through it, sending his seed into your very womb- it will take. He knows it. You know it. You are his love, his chosen, his goddess as he is your own. The ritual is remade- not of duty, of passion. Of love and joy and completion. Two halves becoming whole. 

A god, finding his fate, finding his fated, finding his goddess. 

As his orgasm ebbs, he holds you tight, slowing laying down with you in his arms, protective. Blue skins melts to pale cream. Red shifts to a sea emerald. Lines fade, claws and fangs vanish. This too is Loki. He always is Loki- no matter his skin or form. You giggle, kissing him, love him. Tangle fingers in his hair as he smiles like a fool. You have both defied fate, defied everything he has ever known to be true, yet he can’t care.

He holds you, wrapping you in soft furs as you smile sweetly to him, drifting to sleep, the magic resting, no longer needed.

When you wake the next day, you are in a bed of green silk. Dark wood furniture decorating the room and gold inlay making it feel like a wood made to become a space for living. 

By your side is Loki, sleeping, a gentle smile on his face, his dreams unknown to you, but you can see his happiness there in them. You don’t see the golden roses that have grown and bloomed upon the headboard.

You only see the man you love as you return to lay next to him, dreams of tomorrow met with a dream of him.


	18. Future

He’d chosen to come back with you, naked, stated, in his arms. Heimdall was used to seeing people naked- but he had reminded him that his love might not be so thrilled to have been brought back and seen by others naked and covered in the marks of sex.   
So he wrapped you in his colors, donned the green and gold tabard and walked from the Bifrost right back to the palace and his bed room, letting anyone and everyone see his choice. Let them see his love for you. Let them see you were more now- the ambient glow of magic still inside you, marking you. Divine. A goddess. Tomorrow he knew, he would be able to explain it all. The change, the magic, the new being you’d become that transcended anything that had come before it and likely would never after again. But that would be tomorrow. Until then, he slept by your side, dreaming of a future. A life with you by his side.

Not as a king and queen. As just… themselves. Two beings in love and who had chosen each over or anything else. Who gave the other what they needed most yet were not left lacking. You were so perfect to him, for him- perhaps the norns really had finally given him a life where he was not destined to be alone. He woke up just after you fell back asleep, smiling to himself, brushing the hair from your face to admire the soft smile you had while you slept. But he felt it- magic like siren’s call. Needing him to answer.

A kiss to your forehead, he touched the necklace, filling the magic, ensuring you would be protected as he slipped away. He didn’t want to go. Instinct lingered in him, demanding he stay. Demanding he bed you, take you at every moment you were able to take him- to ensure a child, the frost giant in him demanded to stay and keep his beloved safe. To protect you forever.

Yet Loki was still an Asgardian, still Asgard’s king. So reluctant he got up and followed the magic.

Lys waited in the throne room, arms crossed and looking sorely put out.  
“You do realize she’ll hear about it you know?” Her voice was not... pleasing. He never realized how little he cared for it, now, all he wanted was your voice. Your sweet words washing over him.  
“I expect she already has heard; Amora has eyes and ears on every realm after all.” He sat in the throne, scepter summoned to remind the woman in front of him exactly who she was dealing with.   
“And what do I tell my sister when she asks me how I let it happen?” Loki snorted.  
“Lorelei, your sister knows you had about as much control of me as Odin did-“  
“Odin could at least shut you up.”  
“And look at how well the old man handled me when I was at my worst. Do we need to bring up the last time I brought about true Ragnarok?” He let the question hang in the air. In another universe, it had happened, in this one it happened and this was yet another rebirth. Somewhere along the way, this reality had been made while the other stayed on it’s path. He didn’t like thinking about it. No sorcerer really did.  
“No. But we both know I could have stopped her-“  
He snorted a laugh at that. He couldn’t have stopped her, she was wildfire- even when she had just been a mortal, her divinity not yet manifest. 

“Lorelei.” Loki said, watching the guise of Lys melt away. “You saw it when I brought her back from Jotenheim.” The drop in her face told- she hadn’t want to think it true. “She could never be stopped. This is fate remade, our story retold-“   
“So, she’s taking on Sigyn’s mantle?” Loki had thought it too at first but-  
“Yes and no. Wildfire- the aspect I am yet never was. A part of me. But her love is her own, genuine and real, not stolen and made from duty and honor. Her fidelity is born of love, acceptance of I, Loki. As I am, she embraced. As she is, I love in return. I cannot say if it was love that allowed her to manifest, or if it was the events that even allowed her to become a candidate. We do not know how the norns weave their tapestries. We only know that she had burned them, unwoven them and remake them.” The gasp is audible in the room. Lorelei knew very well the implications of such.

“Is she-“  
“I do not know.”

He loved you, the idea of losing you, forever, to fate would destroy him, crush his soul. He prayed that it had only been wild magic. Not another aspect of your divinity. He would rather you be his fated and promise love than a moment of respite to an unkind rebirth once more destined to be alone. 

Seated in the throne, the spear that had been Bor’s, Odin’s, and now his- it was meaningless, he realized. If he didn’t have you what was the point of it all? Power? Oh he did love the power sure- but he liked doing what he wanted more. Living, having fun, being who he was. You knew that, understood that- and so the thought that you might leave him to allow that was… tragic. What fun could there be now, if he knew he could share it with you, only to find you not there?

“You’re playing with fire Loki.” Lorelei remarked, crossing her arms. When she realized what she said, she sneered as Loki cackled in glee.   
“You know what I mean; when she finds out- and she will- she will come for her. She will bring every single man in her thrall to Asgard’s doorstep and do everything in her power to slaughter her. Amora wants the throne- and if she can’t kill you, she’ll take you. This is why I told you it was fruitless. Why I kept trying to dissuade her. Both of you-“ Lorelei was cruel and selfish, but she knew that love, no matter it’s form was a thing to cherish. She and Loki never saw eye to eye, they rarely did, but Amora was on another level when it came to knowledge of the heart. “She will die Loki. If from Amora killing her, or being forced to watch you marry her. Her death would drive you mad. Alive, Amora would keep her a pawn and prisoner and you’d have no choice left. Dead, you would… Loki it would break you. She’s- God help us.”

Loki knew it. They both did.  
“She’s your salvation and freedom. Wildfire- unwavering love. Fate. If she dies then you die with her and if your heart dies it’s Ragnarök all over again. And there won’t be a simple flight from Asgard, a ship of refugees. No heroic redemption. No Sutur’s sword. Just death. Just meaningless death as you mourn and rage against what was written for us.”

Loki hated her the more she spoke. It was all truths. Lorelei was telling him what he needed to hear. Had to hear. Goddess you might have become, but even a god can die. Can be killed. Amora had not lived so long by not taking what she wanted. And if you lived, you stood in her way.   
“Lorelei.” Loki looked to the woman he had granted pardon if she might be the spy for both sides. If she might serve Asgard without betraying her sister.   
“I relieve you from your duty as Lys. I.” He wanted to kill someone. Anyone. To let the beast out to ruin everything. He didn’t care. In his mind’s eye he saw only two outcomes.

One, you dead, and everything he was, broken. Broken beyond repair. Beyond salvation. Your death would do what not even Thanos could. It would make him give into the darkness completely, and begin a final Ragnarök.   
The other fate was you, alive, but back on earth. Safe. Memories gone and replaced. No Asgard to remember. No powers to wield, hidden away under spells. No fear of Amora or her ilk. No longing for what could never be yours.   
No love in your mind for him.

“Leave Asgard by morning Lorelei.” Loki commanded. “The ship will be suited with enough to see you on your way.” The woman frowned but nodded. She knew that it was coming. The end. Either her sister, or Loki. The end of something terrible was on it’s way, and if she stayed, it would kill her.

As she left, Loki closed his eyes and thought to everything that had led to this moment. He’d stolen everything he had. Cheated and lied and killed to get everything that he called his own. Everything but you.

When he returned to his bed, he saw you, naked and smiling, the golden roses curling up the bedframe, petals landing over emerald sheets and making you look all the more radiant. He made his decision. Curling under the covers with you, he kissed your forehead softly.   
Come what may, he’d made his choice.   
He only prayed it was the right one. 

Waking up, you were disoriented at first. Then slowly, your realized what was going on. The soft but firm body holding you was Loki. Your face tucked into his neck as he slept, arm draped over you, the other propping up his head. His face was beautifying calm, serene. He looked younger, like he was not a king, just… himself. Loki. You smiled, cuddling into him further- though, that only served to rouse him, a smattering of grumbles at his sleep being disturbed.  
“Mmrr.” He moved, leaving back, stealing away from you as he looked at your face, still half asleep himself. At first, nothing, then bleary recognition, followed by a smile in realization.  
“Love.” The word, title, name- a whisper and sigh. He came back to you with a soft lovers kiss as you both woke. Slowly sharing each other’s bliss and happiness. 

“Morning.” You smiled at him, giggling as he stretched, cracking his spine before falling back, tugging you over his chest like a ragdoll.  
“Morning my dear heart.” Another kiss. “How does it feel?” He asked, a glimmer of gold in green eyes. “To wake in the arms of a god?” You snorted a small laugh.   
“Hmmm.” You pretended to think on it. “I can’t say. I think I need more mornings in his arm to know exactly how I feel about it.”  
“Far be it from me to deny such a scientific query. I will see that every morning you wake in the arms of only the most handsome and cunning of gods.”  
“Oh? And who’s that? Bragi?” Loki laughed, holding you close. It was- right. It felt right, perfect even, natural to wake in his arms. 

“You’re cruel.”   
“Says the man who fucked me so hard I passed out after.” Speaking of which- you recalled everything so perfectly. You had… done something. Or rather, something had happened and you had happened with it. “We going to talk about it though? What happened.”  
Loki looked pressed, uncertain then-  
“We will.”  
“But-“  
“Why do you assume there is a but?”  
“Because you didn’t start explaining immediately.” His flush is adorable, red tinting his cheeks.   
“I was rather hoping to ah-“ 

The hard press of him against your thigh makes itself known. Ah, so that was why he’d like to explain later.  
“Fuck me again and then we talk about what happened?”  
Loki licked his lips, green eyes dark and wild with desire. “I promise my wildfire.”

You push up off him, tossing back the sheets and climbing above your lover. His cock is fully erect, flush with blood, black wiry curls at the base, balls heavy with cum you know he plans to leave inside you-  
“Loki-“ You move, guiding him inside you. The feeling of him spreading you open, of sinking into you, sans magic, sans his jotun skin- it’s perfection. He is perfect- he always is for you.  
“Fuck Loki-“ You lean onto his chest, rocking back and forth.   
“I want-“ He helps your hips, guiding you as you begin to ride him, swaying breasts teasing him and a want to suckle them until they’re swollen and red. “I want you to cum in me.” You feel him twitch inside your core, brushing over you g-spot.   
“Cum inside me and- and-“ He already had. You had said no kids for a while… well. 9 months was a while wasn’t it? “I want to give you everything.” 

Tears hit you as you look at his smile, so happy, carefree, loving- youthful and joyous. God of mischief, he knows. He knows no doubt that when he came inside you, when you took him that way, you had chosen. His child. A future- a future with him.  
“I want-“  
“Marry me.” His words are breathy. His hands take your own, fingers lacing as you sit astride his cock, body quivering, already brought so close to your peak with such languid thrusts and gentle ministrations. Its not sex- it’s sex with him. Love of him. He makes you feel this way- him and no other.  
“Marry me (y/n).” You’re tears are hot and burning yet you can see him- a halo of gold around his head. “Marry me, and have my children.” He rocks you, grinding your clit to his pubic bone. “Be my wife.” He’s asking for it, for your everything. “Let me be by your side.” He moves with you, your mutual pleasure building. All you can see past the tears is him.   
“Let me be your husband. The father of your children.” He’s begging you, afraid.  
“Let me try to be worthy of you.”

You smile past the tears, falling onto his chest to kiss him. He was already worthy. There was never anything he had to prove. All he had to do was love you. Love you ask much as you love him. And as he looked into your eyes, you smiled for him.  
“You are not worthy of me-“ You rock forward, holding his gaze. “-You were destined for me.” You kiss him again. Not knowing where the certainty came from, the knowing. Yet your orgasm comes, drawing his own. The warm heat filling your body as his light wraps around you both. You will have his children- be his wife. No talk of a crown or being queen. You don’t need it, you don’t care about it. All you care for is him, and the future you both can make together.

“I love you.” You gasp and whimper as you ride it out, squeezing his cock for every drop of his seed. “I love you so much-“  
“I love you my wildfire, my goddess, my savior, my sweet bird, my dearest, my heart, my love- You are my love. My everything.” As you both ride out your mutual orgasm, you realize you know this is no lie. It’s truth. A powerful truth. Loki loves you as you love him.

Looking down into his eyes, you know what you want.

“Loki.” Green eyes flecked with gold stare back.  
“Fuck me like a whore.”

The roar of triumph and passion echoed in his room- and out the window and into the gardens, where one Tony Stark was walking on a guided tour while the king was occupied.

But that would be dealt with later, right then Loki wanted to ruin you, wreck you, make you into a limp limbed whore sprawled on his sheets with her pussy drooling his cum and unable to walk let alone form words. 

Moved on your hands and knees, the form of your lover shifted, cobalt skin covering him, horns tall and imposing. He’s larger you realize- like somehow, after that mangled ritual, he’s more frost giant now than he was before.   
“Loki-“ He before you could ask he pushed you firmly but not roughly down, leaving your ass in the air and face pressed to the mattress. “Oh fuck-“ The domination does nothing but turn you on and from the hard press of his cock, it has the same effect on him.   
“You brazen slut-“ He hissed into your ear, form dwarfing your own, arms keeping you pinned as he thrust his thick cock between your thighs. “-you took my seed into your hungry cunt on Jotunheim. You know what that means? What will happen?”  
You bit your lip, shaking in anticipation. Oh you knew- you knew and you wanted it. With him, only him.   
“Jontar mate for days my little mortal, we mate and mate and mate until we’re certain our chosen cock sleeve is full and fertile and accepting- we take them and breed them.” He licked the shell of your ear, breath misting as he whispered.   
“Shall I keep going my love? Shall I be your wild jotun king?”  
You moaned for him.   
“Master-“ Loki froze on top of you. “Please- I’ll be a good mate, a good cock sleeve, your whore- please, please cum inside me. Make me your’s!” You lifted your hips up and were rewarded with Loki pushing home, wet and hot heat taking every inch of him.   
“Oh, oh my King! Mercy!” The little impromptu role-play has you hot and bothered, needy and wanting. 

And Loki fits to his role so damn well. Might be because he is a jotun, the king, but also probably because the man did love dramatics. And being dominating as all get out.

“Oh, mortal-“ He moaned, rocking his hips slowly, making sure to drag his nails down the soft flesh of your ass. “-You must be a true slut to take a giant’s cock so well. You love this do you not? Being at the whim of a monster?” You blink. Now- you like kinky, but not that.  
“No-“ You whined, “not a monster- you’re perfect! Too perfect-“ You wailed as he pulled back and slammed back forward with a grunt. “GOD! My god- fuck me!” You reached back, grabbing his ass- and noticed yes, his body is larger. Giant of a man indeed. “Fuck your mortal lover, your cum hungry slut! I’m your whore, a whore for you and your giant cock! Cum inside me! Make me your’s!” Loki filled the request with a roar, fucking you with increasingly hard and determined strokes, white stars dancing in your eyes as he pushds you to a quickly rising orgasm.   
“Fuck! Fuck! Make me your wife! I want- I want you! Loki! Loki fuck me! Make me your wife! Get me pregnant! I want you- your love, your everything- Please please please-“ You fell into a babble, going limp as Loki rammed in and out of your abused pussy like he was going to die. You screamed, unknowing that it echoed down the hall, to where jane Foster was sitting, trying to ignore the news that Loki was ‘busy’ because apparently, on Asgard busy was not the same as busy on earth. 

“I love you-“ Gone is the game, replaced by the man, “-I will marry you, have children with you, make you my queen-“  
“No-“ you gasp, reaching up, turning your head to pull him into a sloppy wet kiss. “I just want you.” Red eyes widened. “I don’t want to be a queen.” Your orgasm is a soft shuddering sigh of bliss as you melted under him, boneless, held up only by his hands.   
“I just want to be-” you gasped, “-your love.”  
That pushed him over the edge, cum sudden awash in your insides and your lover filling you to point you felt it comically run down your legs. It’s inhuman, how much the man can cum- but heaven on earth, it is the stuff of divinity alright. 

The pair of your remained together like that. Massive Jontar King hunched over his tiny mortal, cock tightly snug inside her.   
“Oh- fuck.” You groan, gasping for air and breath, trying to regain some form of control as Loki rocked back, keeping you impaled upon his still hard shaft as he did so. Reverse cowgirl, your barely were able to stay upright.   
“Loki-“ You keened when he thrust again.   
“Love-“ You sobbed from sensory overload. You loved him, and gdo he felt so big and you were so full and he cam inside you again and   
“FUCK!” You leaned forward, trying your hardest to ride him, but the god under you had better plans. His hand snatched your hair, roughly tugging you back as he resumed thrusting. You were falling apart.   
“My love.” Loki snarled, feral and wild, watching you bounce on his cock- smaller now, his giant form more… natural now. A side effect of the ritual no doubt. But you were perfect. Your ass doing a little jiggle each time it came down. The wet slap of flesh on flesh. He adored how you keened and cried out. He was fucking you into oblivion. He would fuck you until you passed out or his cock went soft.

Turned out, Loki’s cock went soft before you passed out, but you were absolutely exhausted and nearly covered in either sweat, cum, or tears. It was messy and disgusting but it was also so wonderful. 

One bath, (and your first ever round of sex in a tub) later, You were dressed in a very Asgardian nobility styled outfit, complete with gold corset and leather bracers with Loki’s symbols on them. You were half dressed up because Loki wanted to announce your courtship had ended- you had accepted his suit and you would be wed. The other part was in his own words, ‘It makes it just that tiny bit harder to bend you over and fuck you all over again.’ Such a charmer. 

Laying on a chaise, cuddled up with Loki and painting a rather scandalous image for anyone who might walk in, the pair of you discussed what happened on Jotunheim- as promised.

“I’m a WHAT?” You yelped, looking at him. A part of you knew but- you thought it had been your imagination.  
“A goddess my love. Of what I can properly identify- Wildfire as one of your aspects-“  
“… Isn’t that supposed to be your thing? Like, in myth?”  
“Yes, which is in part why it is now your own. I called you my wildfire, a title you claimed. Now, it is simply truth beyond truth.”  
“So, when that magic was using me as basically a conduit-“  
“You inadvertently claimed divinity. But your actions gave it to you.”  
“What actions?” You moved more into the crook of his arm, pouting. This was a lot to take in- but it felt right. Like… it was nothing new. Nothing to be scared over.  
“You vowed to love me, be loyal and unwavering. To have me only if I might have you. You took the magic without fear and made it your own. Your will shaped it- you did what few can do. Embrace wild sedir, and give it purpose. Care to guess what other aspect you claimed?”  
You gave him an incredulous look.  
“No.”  
“Oh yes.” He sounded way too delighted.  
“Bullshit.”  
“It’s it truth.”  
“You are kidding right? That’s so, so-“  
“Cliché?”  
“Yes!” You yelled. “I can’t be fidelity. I mean, we’re not even married!” You whined. Loki just kissed the top of your head, and you could feel his twisted happiness about it. 

“Love- you swore you loved me and it was returned- Love for me, Loki. That love marks you- not a Sigyn, but as a woman who’s love carries a great and heavy burden, a weight. You did not need words- but your actions spoke true. That no matter my form, my title, my power, you wanted me. Me and whatever the future held for us, even in the face of uncertainty. That is loyalty. You have faith in me. In us. And that- that gave you what you are. Unwavering faith in our love. Fidelity.” You bite your lip.  
“In myth-“  
“Already you’re worried about fate?” He laughed.  
“This isn’t funny Loki.” You sat up to look at him. “In myth- your children die Loki. They die horrible cruel deaths. You cheat on on... Sigyn and-“  
“And you are not Sigyn.” He cupped your face, thumbs brushing the freshly budding tears away.  
“That is the beauty of fate my wildfire. You changed it. Certain things will come to pass- Ragnarok. My death at Heimdall’s sword. But our children will be loved, protected. I refuse to allow the phantom of another reality hang over us.”  
“Another reality?”  
“The myth you know is a reality already lived. Recorded by a seer and spread. Not a flattering reality but one all the same. That myth holds granules of truth but not much more. So there is truth- but whatever else might have been you changed, remade.” You barely were able to follow. But-  
“So… our kids won’t be killed and used to chain you to a rock?”  
“I would kill myself before I allowed that.”

He said it with such conviction your heart seizes. He means it. He really means he’d go so far for you- for your kids. Which-  
“So.” You look at the wall. My, the frescos are nice. “About the whole fertility ritual.”  
You can feel his smirk. His hand came up, cradling your midsection.  
“Oh yes.” He purrs, clearly satisfied. “Just why we’ll have to have a wedding soon. I expect even if we hadn’t done that ritual, eventually we’d have ended up in each other’s arms- and your delectable cunt stuffed to the point it dripped out of you for hours.” The salacious image had you shuddering pleasantly in his arms.  
“…. This is real isn’t it?” You look up at him. “I’m- well I’m pregnant and you love me and we’re going to get married?”   
“Yes.” Then- “I mean, I know we said it in passion but I thought that’s what you wanted?” He tapped your forehead. “I mean we could always do it a more… devious way. Don’t tell anyone it’s mine, pretend we’re not going to get married, then right before you give birth, you waddle down the aisle to me in front of every Asgardian- becoming my adorably cute pregnant wife- who also happens to be a Midgardian and a goddess- who I sired a child with out of wedlock, and only now would accept my hand.”  
“Oh.” You sit up. “So I accept your hand? You make it sound like you’re offering yourself up Loki.” You lean away from him.  
“Perhaps I am. It’s mischief enough I sired a child on you out of wedlock. But the fact you’re a newly woken goddess and we haven’t announced it yet? And norns help us all- you would become the first Midgardian queen! The men won’t like that.” Standing you pulled from his grip, giggling.  
“Well, good thing I hate sexist old me.”   
“Oh I know my sweet bird.” He followed after you, like a moth to a flame. “And I love pissing them off.” You kiss him briefly, nodding towards the door.   
“We will have to deal with the outside world soon though. And I suspect we’ll need a game plan.”  
“You have a plan?”  
“No, I figured I would make it up as we go.”  
“Creative. I like it.”  
“But- how about we announce the engagement first? As much as I love the idea of people wondering…” You swallowed. “I’m already resented enough Loki, I don’t want people to question our child.”

The man tensed, looking at you with such awe.  
“You really do plan to have our child. And so.. soon.” You knew that on earth, this was moving fast, and no doubt for a race of near immortals- this was probably light speed for them.   
“Well I’m about to let a perfectly good fertility ritual go to waste. You only have those what? Every year?”  
The joke broke him from his mood, cheerful laughter echoing in the room. “True. But- I just feel like this is a dream. All my life, I thought I would be alone. No Sigyn. No lover who would love me. No fated. No happiness or joy to be seen and then-“  
“Then some woman picked up a necklace by mistake.”  
“And made me want to fuck her like an animal when she scorned me. A truly impressive thing.” You shook your head with a smile.   
“Loki- I’ve been through hell. I’ve lost… almost everything and yet, for the first time in my life, I’m in control. I’m happy. I want this- uncertainty, unknowns and all. I love you.”

You don’t realize you’re practically glowing until you cup his face to kiss him- and your skin really is glowing.  
“What the hell?”  
“Oh.” Loki tilted his head. “That’s just your sedir acting up. Fidelity and all that. We’ll work on it.” You blink, another dozen questions on your lips before the man stole the thoughts away, making you melt into his arms all over again.  
“Come on. You were right. We need to go out, face the crowd.”  
“Game plan?”  
“You’re my betrothed. The wedding will be in a month. I’ll spring the goddess bit at the ceremony.”  
“Tricky- I like it. And Amora?”  
“What about her?”  
“Won’t this news… make her want to kill me more?”  
“Oh it will.” His smile is vicious and it both terrifies you and arouses you incredibly quickly. 

“But now, I have every reason to kill her if she even so much as looks at you- and she will know it.” His threat to Amora is sincere, as his that fierce protectiveness of you. It makes you get all hot and bothered all over again.  
Needless to say, Stark and Dr. Fostered ended up waiting for another hour until they’d hear the news.

King Loki was betrothed.  
And you were his stolen bride.


End file.
